Chapter 13: Among Us, a Han Man Has Appeared

"Sizhou really is a fine place!"

Having grown up in Huaishuo and later thrown in with Taiping Stockade, never living anywhere but in biting northern winds or mountain hollows, Hou Jing set foot on flatlands for the first time and felt an immense shock.

It's simply too rich!

The climate here is milder than the north, the land far more fertile, and compared with the six garrisons where life was pinched, supplies were far more abundant.

No wonder the Xianbei people were so desperate to push south!

For the first time, Hou Jing could see why the Xianbei had once moved their capital to Luoyang.

Li Shuang, dressed in Hu Fu, walked over and questioned Hou Jing, who was wearing Han clothing and looking very flashy.

"Why are you wearing Han clothing, and you've bound up your hair too?"

"I found it in the manor. Lord, do I look like a Han scholar in these clothes?"

"You certainly do!"

Hou Jing was pleased by Li Shuang's words and said:

"Lord, rest easy, the whole area around here has fallen into chaos."

Wan Ziqizhen hates the Han people; after he rose in revolt, the Han strongmen of Sizhou got wind of it and fled.

The Hu chieftains who refused to join Wan Ziqizhen's uprising also ran off with them.

With order gone, whether Hu herders or Han refugees, all lost their fear. Stirred up by Li Shuang and the others, they began pouring into these unclaimed lands in droves, looting everything they could grab.

Though the Han strongmen and Hu chieftains had fled, in their haste they could only carry off the valuables and small trinkets; plenty of worth-while things were left behind.

In just a few days, the ruined manor where Li Shuang and the others were staying no longer bore any trace of its original owners.

"Lord, I don't understand. Right now the Erzu clan generals are all waiting to fight Wan Ziqizhen. Why aren't we going after military merit, and instead came here to stir up rebellion?"

Hou Jing didn't understand. Li Shuang asked with a smile:

"What is the real purpose of our march south this time?"

"To put down the rebellion!"

Li Shuang shook his head.

"Putting down the rebellion is only a pretext; seizing territory is the real point. The more places that rebel, the more land we'll hold after we 'pacify' them."

Hou Jing listened to Li Shuang's words, seemed to grasp it, and a sly look spread across his face.

"In that case, right now Sizhou isn't chaotic enough!"

"You've got it!"

Hou Jing laughed, but with some worry.

"Lord, lately two strange fellows have joined our ranks."

"Strange fellows?"

Li Shuang followed Hou Jing to where the two strange fellows were—a broken-down temple within the manor.

For secrecy and mobility, Li Shuang had brought only Hou Jing and a few dozen riders on this operation.

The rebels in the surrounding area numbered in the thousands; most were barely clothed, had long been starving, and had no color in their cheeks.

The two men inside the ruined temple were completely different.

They sat at opposite ends, keeping a fair distance between them, each wary of the other.

One leaned against the wall, nearly eight chi tall, with a handsome face; beside him lay a long case wrapped in black cloth, about as tall as he was, its contents unknown.

The other sat on the ground, with dragon-browed leopard-necked features, arms thick as old tree roots; flanking him on either side were a long spear and an enormous gourd, and he watched everything with an amused look, lifting the gourd to drink from time to time.

After Li Shuang walked in, they also noticed.

"May I ask what brings the two heroes here?"

The roguish-looking man spoke first:

"I heard the leader raised the banner of righteousness to rebel against the Luoyang court. I admire him greatly and have come especially to offer my service."

The one who had been standing also spoke, though he was sparing with words.

"I feel the same!"

The words of these two were obviously lies the moment one heard them.

His outfit here was nothing but a shabby, makeshift band; aside from Li Shuang and the few dozen riders he had brought, every member was a refugee who never knew where the next meal was coming from.

Li Shuang didn't even pay wages—who would pay out of pocket to come to work?

"To have the help of two such heroes, I am truly grateful beyond words."

After some polite exchanges, Li Shuang walked out of the ruined temple, and Hou Jing asked beside him:

"Lord, what shall we do with those two fellows?"

"No need to mind them. Once we reach the border of Dingzhou, find a chance to shake them off."

"Understood!"

Southern Xiurong city.

The great banner of Southern Xiurong's First Tumin Chieftain fluttered outside the walls, and Wan Ziqizhen knew—Erzu Rong had come!

One was the Tumin Chieftain of Northern Xiurong, the other a herdsman of Southern Xiurong. Wan Ziqizhen and Erzu Rong had met before and knew each other's abilities, yet had never measured who was greater.

"Are you trying to tell me that whoever wins gets all of Xiurong!"

Unlike when facing Erzu Zhao, Wan Ziqizhen's fighting spirit surged as he faced Erzu Rong.

Erzu Rong's coming in person meant both sides had laid their cards on the table.

Wan Ziqizhen held the rich Southern Xiurong, but Northern Wei imperial forces surrounded him on all sides. If he defeated Erzu Rong, he could open the road north and link up with the six garrisons' rebel armies.

Erzu Rong, do you think I'm afraid of you?

"Open the gates, summon the lads, and meet them in battle!"

Wan Ziqizhen gave the order, but those around him still tried to dissuade him.

"We've occupied the city, we have plenty of soldiers and stored grain, there's no need to clash head-on with General Er Zhu Rong. If Muzi wants to fight him, he can drive the Han soldiers out as the vanguard — why must our tribal sons be sent in front?"

"You simply don't understand General Er Zhu Rong. Those Han soldiers might do against General Er Zhu Zhao, but they are absolutely no match for General Er Zhu Rong!"

Then, Wan Ziqizhen's voice rose with passion.

"We are all noble warriors, not those lowly Han people. You must understand — whoever wins this battle will gain the whole of Southern Xiurong!"

Watching the great gates of Southern Xiurong slowly swing open, General Er Zhu Rong knew then that this war, he had already won!

At night, Li Shuang brought Hou Jing and the two new freeloaders to sit around the iron pot.

In the pot, fresh mutton was stewing.

All around were wandering Han commoners, but though they smelled the meat, none of them dared approach.

No wonder — the four people inside the room all looked like trouble.

Those two kept their mouths sealed tight; after several days, Li Shuang still hadn't managed to pry out their backgrounds.

The only thing certain was that they were both Han!

Only, they hadn't given their Han names, but had instead made up Xianbei names.

The one carrying the oversized wine gourd was called Song Jiang, the other carrying a long box on his back was called Yu Fukan.

In this cold-hearted society, even the most basic trust between people was gone.

Being a Han person, yet using a Xianbei name — and speaking Xianbei tongue slick as anything!

Li Shuang could only sigh inwardly at how the world had gone to the dogs and men's hearts were no longer what they once were.

"Brother Daye, the meat's almost done!"

"Right on it!"

The mutton stewed in the pot, nearly done; Li Shuang held a ladle, about to taste it.

Out of nowhere in the night, the sound of hoofbeats rang out.

Hou Jing sensed danger, leaned close to Li Shuang's ear and whispered:

"My lord, our men are still scattered outside."

"Let's see first!"

A dozen or so Hu Ren riders came galloping up, heading toward the place where smoke rose in the dark.

As they drew near, the people inside could even hear their voices.

"Damn it, General Er Zhu Rong is really something — we're done for this time!"

Those dozen-odd men walked into the room, and it grew a little crowded inside.

Seeing the four people gathered around the iron pot, they asked:

"Who are you?"

"Da Ye Shuang!"

"Song Jiang!"

"Yu Fukan!"

Li Shuang and the other two had finished giving their names; the dozen Hu Ren nodded, having no objections, and finally looked at the only person in the room who hadn't given a name.

"Hou Jing!"

"Get out!"

"Why?"

"You, a Han man — you think you belong inside this room?"

At that moment, Hou Jing wanted to draw his forty-metre great blade and cut down the whole lot of bastards before him!

"I'm really not a Han man!"

Those three are the real, proper Han men!

Hou Jing's words only earned him a burst of snickering.

Driven out of the room, feeling the cold of the night wind, smelling the fragrance of the mutton soup, hearing the laughter and talk inside, Hou Jing seethed with resentment.

He silently drew out his blade and began to sharpen it.

"These damned Hu Ren!"