Chapter 187: Confirmation of Intelligence

Summer at Dasa Pass arrived later than beyond the mountains. By the end of the sixth month, the night wind in the Qin Ling Mountains still carried a chill, and the torches on the pass city wall swayed in the breeze. It was on such a night that Wu Xi issued the order for a "general assault." The order was issued with great urgency; in the dead of night, messengers holding torches sprinted between camps, waking each general from their sleep. When the assembled generals rubbed their eyes and gathered at the central command tent, Wu Xi was already fully armored, standing before the map. His armor was polished to a shine, and the tassel on the sword at his waist had been replaced with a new one, vivid red, like a drop of blood.

"Gentlemen," Wu Xi turned around, his face solemn and resolute, "the plank roads are open, provisions are gathered, and scouts confirm no unusual movements from the Xia barbarians. Grand Preceptor Han has urged the advance repeatedly time and again. The court has nurtured scholars for a hundred years, and today is the day. This Marshal has decided: at the fifth watch tomorrow, the entire army will exit the pass!"

The tent fell silent for a moment. Then, several generals who had been bottling up their anger for a long time reacted first, leading the chorus of "Willing to fight to the death under the Vice Marshal." The mood in a military tent is contagious—having crouched at Dasa Pass for nearly three months, the soldiers had calluses from crouching, and their blades were polished so bright they could reflect a person's image. Any order to "attack" sounded like good news to the ears of the troops. Cheng Song stood in the corner, his expression complex. Looking at Wu Xi's impassioned profile, he felt something was wrong—how could someone who hadn't moved despite three months of urging suddenly be ready? But he had no time to ponder further, for Wu Xi was already assigning tasks.

Wu Xi's deployment sounded watertight. He divided the entire army into three routes: the central route, led by him personally, would exit the northern gate of Dasa Pass and head straight for Fengxiang; the left wing, led by his general Wang Xi, would advance east along the Wei River valley to pin down the Jin garrison in the Fuyan Circuit; the right wing, led by his general Zhang Lin, would cross the foothills of the Qin Ling Mountains to guard toward Qinzhou, preventing a flank attack from Western Xia. Each route had clear marching routes, troop deployments, and combat objectives. After hearing this, the generals in the tent looked at one another, all feeling that although the Vice Marshal was slow, once he moved, he had indeed put in the effort.

Only one person frowned. His name was Liu Zheng, a Commander from Lizhou Circuit, known among the generals of the western front for his boldness. He did not ask his question in the tent; instead, after the military council dispersed, he followed Wu Xi alone into the rear tent.

"Vice Marshal," Liu Zheng stood at the tent entrance without sitting down, "this subordinate has a matter he does not understand."

Wu Xi was unfastening his cloak; his hand paused for a moment, then continued unfastening: "Speak."

"This subordinate has reviewed the Vice Marshal's marching route. The central route heads straight for Fengxiang. This is a road this subordinate has traveled three times. Along the way are Heshangyuan and Dachongling. The Jin people have an entire Thousand-Household Office at Heshangyuan, with stone fortifications, moats, and ballistae. If Heshangyuan is not removed first, and the main army passes below it, it is equivalent to handing our backs to the Jin people."

"This Marshal knows there are Jin troops at Heshangyuan," Wu Xi hung his cloak on the rack, his voice unhurried, "so this Marshal has dispatched the right wing, Zhang Lin, to resolve it."

"The right wing?" Liu Zheng's voice rose slightly. "Vice Marshal, Zhang Lin's route goes west, while Heshangyuan is to the east. How can troops from the west resolve enemies in the east? Moreover, this subordinate has carefully examined the Vice Marshal's marching route—the central route does not take the official road, but the abandoned old postal road to the west. That road has not been traveled by anyone since the end of the Shaoxing era; it has been desolate for sixty years, with dense forests and cliffs all along the way, completely unsuitable for a large army to march. Taking that road means one would never encounter the Jin main force."

Wu Xi turned to look at Liu Zheng, his eyes very calm, even carrying a hint of concern, as if looking at an unruly child. He did not answer Liu Zheng's question but asked a counter-question: "Commander Liu, are you questioning this Marshal's deployment?"

"This subordinate dares not question the Vice Marshal's deployment; this subordinate merely feels—" Liu Zheng did not finish his sentence. Because Wu Xi was not listening. Wu Xi had already walked to the tent entrance, lifted the curtain, and said a sentence to the captain of the personal guards outside. His voice was very soft; Liu Zheng did not hear what he said.

At dawn the next day, the army exited the pass. Fifty thousand elite troops from Shukou marched out of the northern gate of Dasa Pass in a grand procession, banners blocking the sun, spears and swords like a forest, with immense momentum. The civilians and transport officials waiting on the mountain path watched this mighty army file out from under the pass wall, and they all knelt and shouted "General's might!" Wu Xi rode a tall blue-grey horse, clad in silver armor and wearing a phoenix-wing helmet, his face solemn. As he passed the pass gate in the morning light, he reined in his horse and paused for a moment, looking back at the city tower of Dasa Pass. No one knew what he was thinking at that moment.

The left wing under Wang Xi was the first to leave the main army formation, advancing east along the Wei River valley. Wang Xi marched for two days, camped by the Wei River, then sent someone back to report—Jin scouts were spotted ahead, suspected of an ambush, requesting a temporary halt to the advance. Wu Xi approved: "Granted. Maintain alert at the current position; do not advance lightly." Wang Xi truly maintained alert at the current position, and that alert lasted for ten days.

The right wing under Zhang Lin was the second to leave the main army formation, crossing the foothills of the Qin Ling Mountains toward Qinzhou. They returned after one day of travel—landslides had blocked the mountain roads, making passage impossible for men and horses, so they had to take a detour. The detour took three days, and they were still circling less than forty li west of the northern gate of Dasa Pass.

The central route was the main force led personally by Wu Xi. He took the very abandoned old postal road that Liu Zheng had mentioned. This road was so old that shrubs and weeds had grown all over its surface, and the vanguard troops had to use machetes to clear the way. The six-thousand-strong central army marched in the mountains for a full four days, advancing less than sixty li. Not a single Jin soldier was seen along the way. Every day, Wu Xi sent scouts back to report at scheduled times. The messages all read: "Advanced X li today, no enemy tracks seen," "No traces of Jin troops along the route," and "Our army's morale is high, and the soldiers are eager to fight."

Five days later, the dispatched scouts suddenly brought back news—that the Jin troops at Heshangyuan had mobilized. Wu Xi immediately summoned the generals and solemnly announced: "The Jin have detected our intentions. The enemy at Heshangyuan has sallied forth in full force, intending to cut off our rear. To preserve the army, this Marshal has decided to retreat temporarily." Every word he spoke was reasonable—the threat from Heshangyuan indeed existed; since the surprise route had been discovered, retreating to re-plan was a prudent move.

The army retreated back to Dasa Pass. From the "general assault" to the withdrawal, no more than five days had passed. Fifty thousand elites had made a round trip in the mountains, lost a few dozen shi of grain, trampled hundreds of pairs of straw sandals, killed zero Jin soldiers, captured zero cities, and occupied zero territory.

The first thing Wu Xi did after retreating was not to redeploy, but to summon Liu Zheng to the central command tent. Only Wu Xi and several personal guards were in the tent. Wu Xi sat behind the desk, playing with a chess piece in his hand. He glanced up at Liu Zheng, who had been dragged in, then threw a pre-written document in front of Liu Zheng.

"Liu Zheng, spreading rumors, undermining morale, questioning the commander's decisions, and sowing discord among the officers and soldiers. Considering your years of merit in defending the border, I will not punish you by military law. You are stripped of your rank as Commander but will remain in the army to serve while atoning for your crime." After Wu Xi finished speaking, he waved his hand, and the guards dragged Liu Zheng out.

As Liu Zheng was dragged out of the tent gate, he suddenly understood one thing—the sentence Wu Xi had whispered to the captain of the personal guards when he left the tent the night before was not about arranging tactics, but about arranging him. As he was dragged through the camp, the officers and soldiers in the camp all saw it, whispering and murmuring to one another. The news reached Cheng Song's ears. Cheng Song sat motionless in his headquarters for an entire afternoon, then took up his brush to write a military report to Lin'an: "The Western Army has exited Dasa Pass; the vanguard encountered Jin spies, with casualties on both sides. Vice Marshal Wu, assessing the situation, has temporarily withdrawn to plan for another attempt." After finishing, he added another sentence: "Progress on the western front is smooth; a report of victory will arrive soon."

Just as the Western Army was circling in the mountains, a piece of intelligence was crossing the Song-Jin border, racing toward the Song army camp beneath the walls of Suzhou.

The source of this intelligence was a Han merchant from the Jin's Nanjing Circuit. This person frequently traveled between Kaifeng, Taiyuan, and Take Xingqing Fu, trading tea and medicinal herbs, and had connections with officials across the Jin lands, Song spies, and even former nobles of Western Xia. In a teahouse in Taiyuan, he met a former Xixia noble who had escaped from Western Xia. That man, drunk on wine, poured out his experiences in fits and starts.

That Xixia noble had served in the Iron Owl Corps of the Western Xia army. After the New Ming Party took control of the Western Xia army, the Iron Owl Corps was reorganized into the "People's Armed Forces Xiazhou Cavalry Division." All former Iron Owl officers were replaced, with political officers appointed by the New Ming Party assuming command of battalions and higher units. Because he refused to surrender his command, he was imprisoned and interrogated for three months, only escaping with the aid of his former subordinates. In that teahouse in Taiyuan, using a mixture of Xixia language and stiff Han Chinese, he recounted the New Ming Party's reorganization process, its organizational structure, and everything he had witnessed beneath the Helan Mountains. The merchant listened with a pounding heart, using coded notation to record the Xixia man's words entirely in the interlayer of an account book, then headed south to locate a Song spy station near Dengzhou.

After this intelligence was transcribed by the spy station, it was sent simultaneously to the headquarters of the Eastern, Central, and Western armies at the speed of six hundred li per day.

July 12th, beneath the walls of Suzhou.

When Deng Youlong received the intelligence, he was eating dinner in his own military tent. He put down his chopsticks, read the intelligence three times over, then ordered the dinner to be removed. He walked out of the tent, standing on the cracked mud ground in the southern suburbs of Suzhou, gazing at the flag of He Shi Lie Heshilie Zhizhong on the distant Suzhou city wall. He stood alone for a long time. The night wind blew over, carrying the unique dust smell of Huaibei, mixing with the faint bitterness of medicinal herbs from the distant wounded soldiers' camp.

This was not the first day he had worried about this matter. In fact, since the victory at Sizhou, he had always felt something was off. The Jin resistance was too methodical—Sizhou was not defended, Hong County was not defended, Tangzhou was not defended, but Lingbi held out for half a month, and Suzhou held out for over a month. This tactic of alternating between soft and hard could not be explained by a unified command; it was more like the Jin generals in the southern front deciding on their own whether to stay or go based on their own judgment. Why abandon some cities and fight to the death in others? He had never figured out the answer. Now this intelligence provided a corner of the answer—the Jin had placed all their attention and elite forces in the north, and the southern front was strategically abandoned. Not abandoned to the Great Song, but abandoned to time. The Jin were gambling, betting that the Song army would stop on its own once it reached a certain point.

And that point might be when the Northern Expedition army could no longer fight. Now, the Northern Expedition army could no longer fight.

Deng Youlong returned to his tent, spread out paper, and began to write a secret letter to Han Tuozhou. The beginning of the letter first reported the difficulties on the Suzhou front—plague, supply lines, morale; every item was written truthfully, neither exaggerated nor minimized. Then he wrote about that grassland intelligence. In the final paragraph, he used an extremely cautious tone.

"Your subject Deng Youlong bows his head and kowtows twice before the Grand Preceptor: The Jin southern front is empty, not because they lack the strength to defend, but because they do not wish to defend. Their twenty thousand elites in the north and the ten thousand troops guarding the western front against Xia have not moved a muscle. Now, with intelligence from the Xia Territory, the New Ming Party has completely controlled Western Xia, reorganized its army, and stationed troops within its borders. The Jin's threat lies not in the south but in the north. Your subject estimates that the Jin must have already formed a standoff with the grasslands. The reason they are willing to abandon southern cities to us rather than withdraw a single soldier from the north is that the grasslands are their heart and abdomen, a great threat. Now, our army has been stalled beneath the strong city of Suzhou for over a month; the troops are old and weary, plagues are breeding. Even if we barely capture the city, we will find it difficult to advance further. Meanwhile, the Jin northern elite forces remain undamaged. If our army continues to advance deep, and the situation between the Jin and the grasslands changes, I fear our army will be unable to attend to both front and rear. Your subject dares to suggest: Can we temporarily halt the Northern Expedition offensive and instead consolidate the lands already gained, dig deep moats and build high ramparts, to observe the changes between the Jin and the grasslands?"

After finishing, Deng Youlong sealed the letter and dispatched his most trusted personal guard to deliver it to Lin'an overnight. Then he sat in his military tent, not sleeping all night.

A few days later, similar intelligence also reached Xue Shushi beneath the walls of Dengzhou. Xue Shushi had been besieging Dengzhou for two months, while Wanyan Kuang was still drinking his tea inside the city. After reading the intelligence, Xue Shushi looked at the location of the Jin northern border on the map again and again, and finally did one thing—ordered the construction of permanent camps around Dengzhou. The moats were dug two feet deeper, the earthen walls raised to one zhang, and the arrow towers increased from the original four to twelve. Subordinates did not understand and asked why he was not continuing to attack the city. Xue Shushi only answered one sentence: "Urgent attack is useless; starving them out is best." What he said was not entirely the truth. What he was doing was not starving out Dengzhou, but preparing for a long-term standoff.

Inside Dasa Pass, Wu Xi also saw this intelligence. After reading it, he placed the intelligence on the desk, remained silent for a while, then said a sentence to his personal guard that left him puzzled: "As expected."

The personal guard dared not ask "as expected" what. Wu Xi did not explain either. He simply walked behind the crenellations of the pass wall, gazing at the northern mountains, a barely perceptible smile appearing on the corner of his lips. He had waited for three months, waiting not only for the Jin's reply but also for this news. For Lin'an, the New Ming Party swallowing Western Xia was a disaster, but for him, Wu Xi, it was a bargaining chip.

Lin'an City knew nothing. Lin'an City was still waiting for the victory report from Suzhou. In Grand Preceptor Han Tuozhou's prime ministerial residence, high guests filled the hall every day, and celebrants overflowed the doors. The official gazette still carried headlines like "Suzhou can be taken day or night." Storytellers had already expanded the "Four Battles of the Kaixi Restoration" into the "Five Battles of the Kaixi Restoration," having already written Suzhou into the script in advance. In the teahouses, people said Suzhou had already been captured, that the Jin general He Shi Lie Heshilie Zhizhong had been beheaded, speaking with such detail it seemed real, even the details of the beheading: "Marshal Guo personally took a single stroke, chopped off the one-eyed dragon's head, and hung it on the camp gate. The Jin soldiers saw it and were so frightened they all surrendered."

And by the Piao Spring at the foot of Qianshan Mountain, Xin Qiji sat by the window and wrote three sentences on paper: "Sizhou was picked up, Lingbi was gnawed, Suzhou was crashed into. Crashed into a wall." He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the wastebasket. After thinking for a moment, he picked it up again, smoothed it out, folded it neatly, and pressed it under the inkstone. Then he stood up, gazed at the June night rain outside the window of Jiangxi, and remained silent for a very, very long time.

The summer of the Northern Expedition was thus exhausted bit by bit in the mud beneath the walls of Suzhou, in the mist within the mountains of Dasa Pass, and in the laughter and joy of Lin'an City.