Chapter 222: Before the New Year

On the twentieth day of the twelfth month, a biting wind swept through Tongcheng. People hurried along the roads, transporting all manner of supplies to the base of the city wall. Atop the wall, community soldiers huddled around fires, sending up plumes of white smoke.

Around the official road outside the Zilai Bridge, large and small deep pits had been dug. Conscripted civilian laborers toiled with all their might, and a circular fortified position with deep trenches and high ramparts was taking shape.

News of the roving bandits entering Nanzhili spread in all directions with the official couriers. The entire Jiangbei region went on alert. Few commoners were seen on the roads anymore; aside from those entering the city, most had already fled to places far from the official roads. Documents from the Yingtian Grand Coordinator's yamen arrived daily from Jiangnan.

The Garrison Commander's battalion held Beixia Pass tightly. Cavalry continued to push forward to Shucheng, clashing repeatedly with foraging roving bandits. An unbroken stream of reports came back to Tongcheng.

On the map before Pang Yu, the location of Luzhou Prefecture was already encircled in blue. Several blue arrow markers were prepared at the table's edge, but he had not yet been able to affix them.

"My lord, we have currently confirmed thirteen roving bandit camp heads, including the largest forces of Gao Bazi, the Western Camp Eight Brigands, General Li Chuang, Sweeping King, and Passing Sky Star. Beyond Shucheng, the mountains and plains are swarming with foraging bandits, completely impenetrable. It is unknown whether Luzhou Prefecture still holds."

Pang Yu nodded and glanced at the map again. The roving bandits had come from the west and north along separate routes, and news from Luzhou City had been cut off. Facing bandits on such a scale, small units of government troops had no way to cope; only forces assembled at the Grand Coordinator level could mount a rescue.

The roving bandits certainly exceeded one hundred thousand, but whether they numbered two hundred thousand or three hundred thousand, probably even the bandit headmen themselves did not know.

This was the greatest crisis Pang Yu had ever faced. Shouzhou and Luzhou had both survived earlier in the year. To obtain sufficient supplies in winter, the countryside could no longer satisfy the bandits; only cities held enough resources. This dictated that they would endure higher casualties to assault the cities.

If Luzhou's defense succeeded, the nearby cities still intact were Shucheng, Tongcheng, Wuwei Subprefecture, Hanshan, Hezhou, and others. Going west was a return path, where no more resources could be obtained. Going north might mean encountering the Fengyang garrison. Since the bandits had reached Luzhou, only the east and south directions remained.

Beixia Pass was a critical point, but not the only one. Given the bandits' troop strength, they could attack Beixia Pass while simultaneously detouring from Lujiang to assault Tongcheng from the relatively flat eastern side. Attempting to defend the entire route from Lujiang to Tongcheng would inevitably disperse the Garrison Commander battalion's forces.

Pang Yu had no intention of abandoning Beixia Pass for now. It was an extremely advantageous pass. If the bandits destroyed it, maintaining a garrison there later would be difficult, and Tongcheng would lose a vital screen, profoundly impacting the future defense of Anqing.

But Tongcheng was still more important. As long as they blocked the official road at the Tongcheng County Seat, they could protect most of the grain-producing areas within Anqing. If the bandit force was too large, Pang Yu would have no choice but to abandon Beixia Pass and concede the northeast and east sides of Tongcheng.

The fortified position outside the Zilai Bridge controlled the official road. The position was linked to the city via the Zilai Bridge, the two sites providing mutual cover. The Garrison Commander battalion's infantry were drilling within the position, while the artillery was calibrating its firing positions. The bandits' columns were very long, their organizational capacity was not high, and their ranks contained a large number of carriages, making them heavily reliant on the roads. If the bandit force was not too large, Pang Yu planned to use this circular position to block the official road and prevent the bandits from entering Anqing.

According to the intelligence Yang Xueshi brought back, the bandits were preparing to head toward Yangzhou. Liuhe was a necessary pass on that route, and also Zhang Guowei's jurisdiction. The Garrison Commander battalion would need to go to the rescue, but the bandits were not a single force. That information only indicated Yao Tiandong's likely movement; the other camps could split off and head for Anqing.

Given Anqing's current military strength, if the Garrison Commander battalion were transferred away, they could only defend the city itself. The rest of the territory would inevitably be devastated, which was not in Pang Yu's interest.

Mr. Hou's voice sounded from behind him. "My lord, should the intelligence brought back by Company Commander Yang be reported to the Circuit Intendant?"

Pang Yu pondered for a moment. Both Shi Kefa and Yang Erming would need to be convinced, and that even included Pi Yingju, because going to the rescue of Jiangpu very likely meant abandoning Anqing.

"Send a five-hundred-li express to Military Commander Zhang. Have the messenger go to Jurong first. I will speak with Circuit Intendant Shi myself." Pang Yu reached out and took that dispatch report, then glanced northward again. "I wonder if Luzhou can hold out."

……

On the twenty-first day of the twelfth month, outside the walls of Luzhou Prefecture City, thousands upon thousands of figures swarmed. Below the wall lay toppled bamboo ladders and broken tables and desks in disarray, all manner of corpses mingled among them. From the walltop, cannon fire roared like thunder, white gunpowder smoke spewing ceaselessly outward from the city. A rain of stones and straw bundles fell toward the base of the wall.

As several basins of kerosene were poured down, great fires blazed up at the wall's base. The tide-like crowd screamed and fled outward—another assault had failed. By now the sky was darkening; there would be no more fighting today.

"Without luck, you just can't take it." Xiao Wazi withdrew his gaze, turned, and walked away. Outside the city outskirts, crude shelters covered the mountains and plains. Smoke curled up everywhere, the rising white haze filling the horizon as if merging with the low-hanging clouds of the sky.

Winding his way among the shelters, a moment later Xiao Wazi arrived at a lean-to built against a half-collapsed earthen wall.

A fire burned outside the shelter, its flames burning a little low. Xiao Wazi turned his head to look, then strode over to a group of people nearby and, right beside their fire, directly grabbed a bundle of grain stalks.

"Hey, you—"

A servant among the group stood up to stop him. Xiao Wazi kicked out, and the man, unable to dodge in time, cried out "Aiyah!" and crumpled to the ground clutching his stomach. With a shing, Xiao Wazi drew his waist saber.

The crowd scattered in panic. Xiao Wazi pointed his saber at the man on the ground. The servant, no longer caring about his stomach, waved both hands in front of his face and said, "Spare me, master! Take whatever firewood you want."

Under the terrified stares of the onlookers, Xiao Wazi stared at him for a moment, then finally slowly sheathed his saber. Carrying a handful of grain stalks in each hand, he left. Returning outside his own shelter, he tossed a handful of stalks in, and the flames immediately blazed up.

Two coughs came from inside. Xiao Wazi ducked his head to look. The old man who drove the cart was lying inside. He turned over, making as if to get up.

"Old master, you rest. Don't come out. There are servants cooking food."

The old man sat up anyway. Looking out through the open door curtain, Xiao Wazi handed him a tattered sheet from the ground. The old man took it and draped it over his legs.

"In just a few days it'll be the New Year. Another year gone." The wrinkles on the old man's aged cheeks seemed deeper than ever. A tiny snowflake drifted down, landing on the tip of his nose, then quickly melted. "In years past at this time, we'd be slaughtering the New Year's pig. The rice cakes would already be made."

Silence fell by the fire, the burning grain stalks emitting soft crackling sounds. Xiao Wazi added more stalks, then took half a wheat cake from his bosom. He warmed it over the fire, broke it in two, and handed a piece to the old man.

"Old master, you eat this first. Once we break through Hanshan, I'll find you a rich family's house to stay in. On New Year's Eve, no matter what, we'll cook some meat to eat."

The old man took a bite of the cake and chewed it slowly. "So Luzhou can't be taken after all. It's just as well if it can't be taken. Those people can have their New Year too."

As he spoke, he turned his head to look at the Luzhou city wall. They were beginning to hang lanterns atop it, one every few paces, making it look as if a ring of light had been placed upon the wall.

Just then, a red banner came passing by from outside the city wall. Everyone knew it was Master Zhang Xianzhong returning to camp, and the people on the road parted to make way.

Zhang Xianzhong was not riding a horse. He wore a melon-rind cap hat on his head, a satin-faced padded jacket, and a dark green riding vest over it, with the hem of his robe showing below—looking exactly like a country landlord.

Eight Master ignored the people around him. Several generals and High Shine attendants flanked him. Zhang Xianzhong walked with his head down, cursing as he went, "Fuck your mother's fur. This dog-fucking Luzhou—by day it's a city of men, by night a city of lanterns. A few hundred of your mothers dead and we haven't even pried out a few bricks. Tomorrow I'll tell Fourth Brother we're finding an easier place to hit."

Talking among themselves, the group walked off into the distance to the west, where a large, undamaged mansion stood—the residence of the Eight Great Kings master.

The crowd returned to how it was before, each person going back to their shelter to warm themselves by the fire.

Xiao Wazi shook his head and said to the old man, "The master couldn't take Luzhou last time. We thought with Gao Bazi here together this time we could take it, but it looks like another trip for nothing. Just now the Post Commander told me everyone's tired of attacking Luzhou. Gao Bazi wants to go hit Hanshan and Hezhou. General Li Chuang is going along too. The master doesn't want to go with General Li Chuang, so we're going to hit Quanjiao."

The old man gave an "Oh." "The ones you've hit before, they're all prepared. The ones you haven't hit, you figure they'll be easier to take."

Xiao Wazi nodded. "I was still hoping we'd go to Tongcheng, but we're not going this time either. Scouts saw that in Anqing City, over ten thousand Jiangnan troops have come up from the south. Gao Bazi says since the Jiangnan troops are all in Anqing, we'll head for Yangzhou instead, seize boats to cross the river, and strike the Jiangnan troops' home base."

The old man knew that Xiao Wazi's elder brother had died in Tongcheng, and that he had always been thinking of going back to kill everyone in Tongcheng for revenge. He sighed softly and said, "Xiao Wa, no matter where we attack, when it's your turn to storm the city, don't go fighting for the honor of being first to ascend. Nothing is more important than your life."

Inside the shelter, Xiao Wazi picked up a broken piece of a window lintel, still bearing half a carved auspicious cloud pattern. Without looking at it, he placed it directly into the fire.

A shower of sparks burst from the fire, adding a little more warmth inside the shelter.

"Old master, don't worry about these things. If I don't fight for merit, sure, I won't get beaten to death, but then I can't keep any servants either, and in the end I'll still starve to death." Xiao Wazi pointed at the wing-rooms outside the city gate. "The old camp, the generals, High Shine, all the various family Post Commander and team leaders—they can live in the wing-rooms with fires burning. We can only build our own thatched huts. Look around here. Just yesterday, over a hundred froze to death. Either way, the end is death. Better to gamble on some merit. If the master makes me a team leader, then we can survive."

The old man sighed again. "This world will change someday. Everyone will spend New Year at home."

"I won't live to see that day." Xiao Wazi lowered his head. The auspicious cloud on the window lintel had already been swallowed by the flames.