Chapter 1077: Crushing Decay and Rot

The Wuqing Army: stationed here were ten thousand Khitan tribal troops and twenty thousand Jingzhou regulars. The relative status of the tribal troops and the Jingzhou regulars was roughly analogous to that of the Song Dynasty's Forbidden Army and Box Army.

These thirty thousand soldiers were dispersed across various posts, joining forces with armies elsewhere to guard the Khitan border.

It was on such an utterly ordinary night that their border defense line was collapsing with startling speed...

An eighteen-year-old, burly young man, his features slightly different from those of the Song people, ran swiftly, a shield braced on his left arm and a ring-pommel sword gripped in his right.

Ever since he had become a soldier, gradually, he had gained the ability to see clearly at night. Borrowing the light of the half-moon, he stared intently at a figure rushing toward him in panic, bearing the appearance of a Song person. He knew that figure was not a Song native, but a Han Chinese living within Khitan territory who had been conscripted.

He saw the panic on that person's face, grinned broadly, and without another word, increased his pace even further, raising his shield to protect his front while holding his sword atop the shield with his other hand.

With a loud thud, he finally collided with the man. His blade plunged directly into the enemy's neck; grinning ferociously, he yanked the sword back, causing blood to gush out and spray all over his face. In this northern autumn night, the fresh blood felt exceptionally scalding.

He couldn't help but zone out for a moment; was this how his father had been chopped to death by the Song people back then...

Just as he stood dazed, a long spear thrust out from his side, driving straight into the abdomen of an enemy rushing up to fill the gap; blocked by armor, it failed to pierce through. A burly, bearded man rushed past him in a flash, teeth gritted, pressing the spear shaft against his own belly to force the enemy backward.

As he passed the young man, that burly, bearded soldier slapped his helmet with a heavy palm.

"Damn your mother, Li Heicheng, what are you standing there for? Kill!"

"Kill!"

This shout did not come from the Western Xia soldier named Li Heicheng, but from the squad leader pressing the rear guard. This squad leader not only roared in anger but also shoved him forward to kill; if kicking someone wouldn't have disrupted his balance even more, this squad leader would certainly have delivered a massive flying kick to Li Heicheng.

Shoved forward, Li Heicheng shook his head, deciding to think no more.

He knew only that although he could lose his life in battle at any moment, his family's life was good, and if he died, his family's life would become even better.

"Kill!"

He shouted loudly, steadied his body, and charged forward, raising his shield to block the blade slashing down at the burly soldier who had just hit his head; immediately after, the squad leader followed up with a swift, precise, and ruthless spear thrust, cleanly killing the enemy...

"Kill!"

"Fuck them to death!"

Without pausing their steps, they charged forward relentlessly, killing all the way east...

In Shuobei, people from various tribes were preparing to fatten their cattle, sheep, and horses for autumn, hoping that by this time the livestock would be plump enough to withstand the onslaught of the harsh winter.

Snowfall on the grasslands was deadly; ordinarily, it would reach several tens of centimeters, and in some places, it might even accumulate to three feet deep. At such times, it would be difficult to find anything on the ground to sustain humans or keep the cattle and sheep alive. Even attempting to relocate the tribe would prove nearly impossible; with heaven and earth turned white, only herdsmen with decades of rich experience could find the correct path through a world of snow, and among hundreds or thousands of herders, there might not even be one such person.

Therefore, the people of the grasslands, year after year, always stored sufficient food, salt, and other daily necessities, as well as fodder for their cattle, sheep, and horses, before the first snow fell. The wealthy tribal chieftains were no exception; they always had to sell off a portion of their livestock to make room for the rest to survive the winter, and they also took advantage of this period to trade with caravans on the grasslands for tea, wine, sugar, and other goods for storage.

Although the two sides belonged to different ethnic groups and national factions, their hardships were largely comparable; the common people of the grasslands were the same, never having a moment of leisure. Even the children had to carry baskets on their backs, scouring the entire grassland to collect cow dung, all contributing to the better lives of the tribal chieftains and the grassland nobility.

Yet no one cared about these things...

On an ordinary day while the common people of the grasslands were busy, their lives, peaceful for several decades, finally began to churn with turmoil.

What arrived first was the trembling of the earth, caused by thousands of horses galloping simultaneously, their force sinking into the ground and spreading farther outward.

Accompanying the tremors came the sound of hooves; on the empty, tranquil grasslands, the noise of hoofbeats stood out with exceptional prominence.

People stopped their work and gazed into the distance.

What they saw was yellow sand flying across the sky, followed by countless figures appearing on a small rise in the distance, carrying boundless military might as they galloped swiftly toward them.

In an instant, the people of this unnamed tribe descended into chaos; men rushed off in anxiety while women gathered together. Within moments, several dozen riders departed from the tribe, scattering in all directions, whipping their horses to a frantic gallop in a desperate bid to flee.

The remaining men donned their armor and mounted their war horses; they did not run, for women, children, cattle, and sheep were the grasslands' greatest wealth. Moreover, they had already seen countless figures surrounding them from all sides; whether those trying to escape or those sent to report, none had managed to break free—all had been driven back, and escape was now impossible.

They could only protect the women and children at the rear; over a hundred fully armed men faced off against several thousand opponents. The horses, frightened by the thousands of their own kind surrounding them, pawed the ground restlessly, shifting their bodies back and forth; the men atop them, some holding bows and arrows, others gripping sabers tightly, soothed their agitated mounts, suppressed the unease in their hearts, and stared deathly at the cavalry encircling them.

Viewed this way, these people of the grasslands carried a rather tragic air...

Those who had surrounded the grassland tribe were, of course, the Great Song iron cavalry, or rather, the Xiazhou iron cavalry; under the leadership of Zhong E, they had killed their way northward and were currently advancing eastward.

From within this group of cavalrymen, two riders spurred their horses forward.

"Tell them that we are the army under Prime Minister Wang of Great Song; if they behead their tribal chieftain and those who have committed evils in the past, we will not kill them. Prime Minister Wang leads the army to attack the Khitan, and after conquering the region, he will distribute cattle and sheep to the grassland herders—livestock that will belong to them personally. He will also build schools on the grasslands so that grassland children can learn the culture of our Great Song and, in the future, serve as officials of our Great Song."

"Prime Minister Wang led the army to attack Western Xia and reclaimed several prefectures of land; the common people who originally lived in Western Xia now possess their own land, their own cattle and sheep, and their children..."

The knight continued proclaiming what kind of good life they could expect after submitting to Great Song, and so forth.

This was, of course, Wang Yan's instruction; the soldiers he trained always conveyed the consciousness of defending home and country. Military discipline was naturally quite strict, though there was no rule forbidding killing; relatively speaking, it was much more lenient, simply prohibiting robbery and harassment of one's own people, demanding that soldiers simply act as soldiers. Toward the common people of enemy nations during a state of hostility, there was no such mercy.

To summarize: kill all who do not obey. It was not that they were forbidden from burning, killing, looting, or raping women in a disorganized and undisciplined manner; rather, such actions were to be carried out in an organized fashion.

But for those who obeyed and cooperated, mercy would be shown.

The situation now was clear: these people on the grasslands were not fools, and the Song army's words were explicit. Furthermore, their own organizational structure lacked strong cohesion; the grassland tribes were too scattered, and the chieftains enjoyed too much autonomy. Without a powerful figure to integrate forces and enforce centralized authority, they were nothing but a sheet of loose sand.

Thus, under the words of the grasslander captured to serve as a guide and translator, the hundred or so men began to stir; everyone's gaze fixed uniformly on those who had been forced back earlier—the ones who had tried to flee or send word. Under the scrutiny of the crowd's eyes, they gradually began to break away from the group.

Then, all that remained was a ground littered with corpses; only the unridden horses, unhappy at being splashed with blood, shook their bodies...

Zhang Da rode his horse to the front and said to the translator, "Tell them to provide men to guide us to nearby tribes. Have them clearly state the population of each tribe; we go to liberate the people of other tribes, ensuring that the cattle and sheep likewise belong to them personally, and that their children can likewise learn the culture of our Great Song and serve as officials of our Great Song."

"If we win this single campaign, then all of this will be realized in the future. If they fear we will lose, then let them take up their blades, mount their horses, and march with us; a good life must still be carved out by one's own spear and sword before one can enjoy it with peace of mind."

After the previous battle, he had fought his way up to become a general; at that time, when Wang Yan sought to expand the cavalry, his horsemanship was excellent, so he was simply transferred to that role, and now he was a major general commanding five thousand cavalrymen.

Naturally, he was delighted; cavalry enjoyed better treatment than infantry, and thus, quite naturally, the status of cavalry commanders was higher than that of infantry commanders...

This was exactly how they had killed their way upward.

Translators were brought along with the army, some even captured from the south; the language barrier was an obstacle prepared for long in advance. There were many who could speak the languages of other ethnic groups, all trained by Wang Yan; when fighting in foreign lands, language was the first hurdle, after all.

They would casually capture a local, ask clearly where the nearby large tribes were located, and come directly to surround them. Afterwards, they would have the locals act as guides, disperse their forces to strike tribes everywhere, kill off the local chieftains, eliminate the local nobility, and then sweep up some grassland cavalry to join their ranks.

In this way, they not only increased their troop numbers but also prevented their rear route from being cut off, and further stopped opportunists from exploiting the war between the two nations to woo the grassland forces and create new troubles.

The war began suddenly, and the grasslands had made no preparations; the cavalry force led by Zhong E proceeded quite smoothly. However, their true trial was the approaching harsh winter; for now, it was not yet a significant concern...

At roughly the same time, at Jinshu Army, Tiande Army, and other western border posts of the Khitan, as well as along the Hedong and Hebei borders, Great Song launched an unprecedentedly fierce offensive.

The Khitan had a population of nine million, with a standing army of less than three hundred thousand; this was the estimated historical data. But now, Khitan military strength absolutely exceeded three hundred thousand.

This was because the current Great Song exerted immense pressure on the Khitan; furthermore, Wang Yan himself kept the Khitan restless day and night. Wang Yan was brilliant at training soldiers, fierce in battle, and capable of countering both sinister plots and open strategies; when he previously dealt with Western Xia, the Khitan had watched it all unfold before their eyes.

Although the Khitan were stronger than Western Xia, and although the Khitan could beat Western Xia senseless, in the end, their own losses were not small, and they had not militarily annihilated the Western Xia regime; that meant they were still not strong enough.

They understood clearly that Wang Yan did not play by the rules of Wu De, and they understood clearly that under Wang Yan's influence, the current Great Song likewise did not play by the rules of Wu De; they possessed a thorough understanding of the war between the two sides.

Therefore, in recent years, they had also been training troops, guarding against a surprise attack from Great Song.

Merely to guard against Wang Yan on the western front, numerous troops were stationed from south to north here to provide support, with even more forces deployed further east for reinforcement, totaling over a hundred thousand soldiers, creating a defense so tight not even air could pass through.

This troop count was essentially an estimate of the army under Wang Yan's command, resulting in a one-to-one matchup; in recent years, the Khitan had dispatched many spies or purchased intelligence at high prices.

Such matters were unavoidable; there were always those who remained complacent and those greedy for wealth, and since both sides maintained border markets with frequent exchanges, much information was traded there; correspondingly, Wang Yan had also arranged for spies and purchased intelligence, as it was mutual.

Indeed, the contacts he liaised with were of even higher rank; when it came to playing the intelligence game or inciting unrest, the Khitan were equally ineffective...

Furthermore, besides the over one hundred thousand troops on this western front, the Khitan had another two hundred thousand elite soldiers on their southern front in Hebei and Hedong, facing off against the Song army.

Due to the increase in troop numbers and the rising costs of training, the Khitan, already on a downward trajectory, found it no easy task to sustain such a large military force with a population of only nine million.

Consequently, what they naturally had to do was levy heavy taxes, so in the past two years, the common people within Khitan territory had not been living well; this distinction was not between Hu and Han, but rather, whether Han or other ethnic groups, everyone suffered.

These were, of course, favorable conditions for war, just as in the campaign against Western Xia, capable of mobilizing the populace to defect and offer support; moreover, after more than two years, how Wang Yan had treated those Western Xia commoners had long circulated within Khitan territory; what could be more convincing than seeing the numerous Western Xia people within the great army, each smiling and sharing their personal testimonies?

Thus, after the war began, Fan Zhongyan and others on that side performed adequately; although they achieved surprise, the sheer number of troops meant both sides essentially fought to a stalemate.

On Wang Yan's side, however, the course of the war was entirely different, akin to sweeping away rotten wood and crumbling tiles; the defensive lines the Khitan believed impregnable collapsed at the first touch.

Of course, Wang Yan still commanded this campaign, yet he consistently refrained from micromanagement; the generals were all selected by him and enjoyed his full trust; as long as they followed the main force, made deployments at any time, and advanced steadily, they could simply push forward relentlessly.

His primary work was actually not fighting, but rapidly beginning the governance of already conquered regions; this time, he had brought not only scholars from his own circuit but also pulled in scholars from surrounding areas; their quality could be assessed later, for the top priority was a rapid and smooth takeover of the captured territories.

The Khitan territory was vast, and at this time, travel by cart was slow and horses were sluggish.

They first received reports from the southern front, which seemed relatively stable, but immediately afterward, they hastily sent envoys to inquire about the western front's situation, and then panic set in.

For in the short span of eight days, although the main battlefield of the great war had only advanced a hundred li, two columns of troops had surged forward: one raided over four hundred li, striking straight into Fengzhou (Hohhot), while the other also marched four hundred li, its direction of attack being Datong.

Datong Prefecture was the location of the Khitan Western Capital, its importance beyond doubt; however, news reached there faster, and resistance had already been organized, yet the Khitan central court would not pin its hopes on that front.

With two hundred thousand troops engaged, yet the enemy still broke through the blockade and struck the rear, it looked anything but reliable.

Just as they were arguing over how to respond and whom to dispatch to command the war, they finally received news that cavalry on the grasslands were advancing rapidly eastward, sweeping up over ten thousand grassland horsemen in their wake.

As everyone knew, the combat effectiveness of grassland cavalry was formidable; this stemmed from growing up on horseback since childhood, mastering horsemanship, and excelling in mounted archery warfare, characteristics of the affluent grassland people.

The scale grew larger and larger, and the speed of advancement became faster and faster.

Immediately following this, news of the Great Song launching an attack on the Khitan and the unfavorable situation on the western front spread rapidly throughout Khitan territory, leading to public unrest and a concentrated outbreak of rebellions in various regions.

The Khitan court instantly descended into chaos.

No one could explain clearly why, when everything had previously been stable and harmonious, a single strike from the Great Song had, in the blink of an eye, brought about a situation where the mountains seemed ready to collapse and the sky ready to fall, leaving the Khitan tottering in wind and rain, their Jiangshan appearing on the verge of destruction.

"Father, Father, it's snowing."

"It's snowing outside."

Light footsteps sounded as two unlucky sons, leading an even unluckier little one, pattered into the room on their short legs.

Following closely behind was Little Wang Dongliang, wearing a look of helplessness; oh, he was no longer so little now; that even unluckier little one was Wang Wang Dongliang's son, whose name he himself had chosen: Wang Zhongping.

He had also assigned a generation name for Wang Wang Dongliang's family, the eight characters 'Loyal, Chaste, Filial, Brave, Wealthy, Noble, Peaceful, Safe,' a request made by Wang Wang Dongliang, who was now a grown man with ambitions.

For this expedition, the two older ones were troublesome, clamoring to join the fighting, and ever since Wang Zhongping could walk, he had been trailing behind these two unlucky sons as a follower; since one group needed chasing and the other needed herding, Wang Yan had simply brought them all along.

Wang Yan smiled and addressed the people in the room: "That is all for the matters at hand; each of you attend to your own duties; let me say this once more: as we are currently in wartime, military law applies to all; whether soldier, minor official, scholar, or high official, anyone who undermines my grand strategy shall be executed immediately."

"Yes, we shall keep this in mind."

"It has started snowing, meaning hard times are upon us; everyone, take care to keep warm and protect yourselves from the cold, do not harm your health; urge those behind to expedite the delivery of winter supplies and medicinal herbs; you are dismissed."

Everyone responded affirmatively, rose, completed their bows, and departed.

Allowing his subordinate minor officials to drape a fox-fur cloak over his shoulders, Wang Yan very fairly gave a kick to each of the three eager little fellows, then picked up the smallest, Wang Zhongping, and laughed: "Let's go, let's go outside to see the snow; if it snows heavily today, tomorrow we will build a snowman."

"Oh, then it must surely snow heavily for that to happen," the eldest son said, his words filled with anticipation.

Wang Yan shook his head with amusement, paying no heed to his unlucky son's ill-timed remark; after all, he still had to take the children to build a snowman, so what was there to say...

Stepping out the door, a gust of cold wind carrying goose-down snowflakes struck against his body; Wang Yan gazed at the gray, hazy sky, raised one hand, let the snow fall upon it, and before it could melt, even more snow covered it.

"Truly, this is heavy snow."

Little Wang Dongliang looked up at the misty sky and sighed: "Young Master, this snowfall has saved the Khitan..."