Chapter 263: When Grasses and Trees Wither and Fall, the Wild Geese Fly North (Part Two)

The ninth month of the lunar calendar is the very end of autumn; the north wind gradually strengthens, and the weather turns cold.

At this time, whether people or animals, all make their final preparations for winter.

The squirrels of Liaodong seize the chance to hoard pine nuts, the bears of Mount Taixing are building up fat, and the wild geese of Hebei are lining up to fly south... yet at this very moment, forty to fifty thousand Yellow Turban troops are all heading north.

The weather was cold, the Han army had come from afar, had just set camp, and then immediately mobilized at night, hastily mounting up to pursue — they were truly exhausted, weary, and freezing, and even the horses were spent. Yet when they actually made contact with the main Yellow Turban force on the road and clashed in a chaotic night battle, they found the fighting utterly without resistance.

The reason was simple: the Yellow Turbans fleeing north in haste were just as exhausted, weary, and freezing, and after all, they were fleeing in panic after their commander had died, so they had no desire to fight at all.

However, at the end of autumn dawn comes late, and once the forty to fifty thousand Yellow Turbans fell into chaos at the first touch, the situation spiraled completely out of control. In the darkness, even the Han army lost all organization. Both sides, merely following their respective commanders' pre-battle orders, hacked at each other in a daze while being swept along together toward the Zhang River to the north.

Still, dawn had to come eventually. When the morning sun rose in the east, the sky cleared, and the autumn frost melted away, the situation finally became clear — those with horses were always faster than those without, the pursuers were always more aggressive than the fleeing, and more importantly, under the Han army's relentless pursuit, the Yellow Turbans had discarded armor and weapons along the way, lost countless supplies, and were ultimately trapped on the banks of the Zhang River, having lost the organization and defensive capability necessary to cross.

At this point, the Han army's strategic objective had been fully achieved. Although the Yellow Turbans still had tens of thousands of troops, their defeat was in truth unavoidable; they were merely waiting to die.

"My lord, though our troops are utterly exhausted, as soon as Lord Huangfu catches up from behind with the main infantry force, we can advance with the entire army and put an end to this calamity." Fu Xie was bone-weary, but seeing Gongsun Xun leading a group of White Horse riders approaching slowly from the rear, he pulled himself together and went to meet them. "After a year of bitter struggle, this great chaos will finally have a beginning and an end."

"Not necessarily."

Gongsun Xun, too, showed all the signs of a night of forced marching, but it was clear he did not agree with his junior fellow apprentice's assessment.

"Indeed, not necessarily." Xi Zhong was a poor rider and had been left in camp by Gongsun Xun, but the only advisor who had come along, Lou Gui, also dismissed Fu Xie's judgment.

"Can the battle still reverse?" Fu Xie was momentarily stunned and uncertain. "Forgive my dullness, but I truly cannot see where their turning point lies."

"It is not that the battle will reverse, but that with the great river ahead and the Yellow Turbans already in a desperate situation," Lou Zibo sighed from horseback, "I fear there will be an outcome before the main infantry force behind us can even catch up."

Fu Xie understood almost instantly: "Sir Zibo means that the rebels will either, before the infantry arrives, fight back with desperate abandon, or they will simply turn and throw themselves into the river, just like that day by the Zhuo River and the Qing River?"

"Correct." Lou Gui stroked his beard slightly and replied. "That is likely what will happen."

"After all, these are tens of thousands of lives." On horseback, Gongsun Xun, whether from weariness or because the battle was so effortless, seemed somewhat listless. "Go and call out to them. Ask where Zhang Liang is. Tell him that defeat is certain, and if he still has a shred of backbone, why drag the innocent down with him? Either come out, lead his personal guard, and fight me to the death, or bid me farewell and take his own life. Either way, for the sake of that one meeting we had by the Xia Embankment in Zhao State, since we can barely count as old acquaintances, I will give him a clean end... That way, we can also sooner crush the hopes of these tens of thousands of able-bodied men, so they will surrender and seek a way to live."

Fu Xie, hearing this, was quite hesitant and could not help but remonstrate: "My lord, these people are all cultist heretics. Even if forty to fifty thousand of them surrender, how could the court tolerate them? We are already at the final stage of this campaign; we should execute them to make an example."

"Matters like that are for me, Lord Huangfu, and the central government to discuss. You stay out of it." Gongsun Xun waved his hand impatiently. "Go and do it at once!"

The gap in their status was too great. Despite their personal friendship, Fu Xie dared not say more. He immediately led his men, spurred his horse, and went off to call for others to shout for Zhang Liang.

"My lord has, in the end, been moved to compassion?" Once Fu Nanrong had left, Lou Gui could not help but sigh again. "Even if one's heart was shaken at the first sight in Dongjun, by now, time and again, one should have grown accustomed to it. Besides, such things will likely only increase in the future — how can one possibly save them all, one by one?"

"Since it is before my eyes, let me try." Gongsun Xun remained expressionless. "Besides, the situation now is different from before. In Dongjun, the Yellow Turbans were still on the rise, so it was natural for them to harbor a fierce and unyielding spirit. Those twenty thousand by the Qing River were, to some extent, willing to die as martyrs for Zhang Jiao... But now? If Zhang Liang also dies and the Yellow Turbans vanish like smoke, why would they all rush to die for him one after another? Die for whom? The Yellow Turban uprising has only lasted a few months — where would so many loyal ministers and filial sons come from?"

Lou Gui slowly shook his head, knowing in his heart that the other man was arguing for the sake of arguing, but it was not his place to press further.

A moment later, a sudden commotion arose somewhere ahead. Then a great Yellow Heaven banner and a great General of the People banner were raised simultaneously. Immediately after, the two great banners advanced side by side, charging directly toward the conspicuously positioned White Horse Volunteers.

It was obvious: Zhang Liang had heard the shouted challenge, and without a second thought, had resolved to lead his personal guard to meet Gongsun Xun, this old acquaintance from Zhao State.

Gongsun Xun raised his head in a signal, and Han Dang immediately led over five hundred White Horse Volunteers charging out.

There were no gongs or drums, and even the battle cries were weak and feeble. But seeing the banners raised here, both the Yellow Turbans and the Han army stirred into action. The Yellow Turbans tried to come to their aid, while the Han cavalry, even as they blocked them, tried to break through to kill Zhang Liang and seize this last great battle honor... For a time, the entire line descended into chaotic melee.

But very soon, after the five hundred newly reorganized White Horse Volunteers crashed head-on into those two great banners, both armies, already utterly exhausted, fell silent once more — for those two iconic great banners were toppled almost instantly.

And a moment later, those two great banners, along with the bound Zhang Liang, were delivered together before Gongsun Xun by Fu Xie and Han Dang.

"So it is indeed an old acquaintance." Seeing Zhang Liang escorted over, Lou Gui went forward to meet him. "Only, you have grown thin and aged considerably. My lord..."

"Seeing me, why do you not kneel?" Gongsun Xun on horseback suddenly narrowed his eyes, cutting off Lou Gui's words. "Back then, when I was a county magistrate and you saw me at the Xia Embankment, you still paid obeisance with full ceremony. Now I am General of the Household of All Purposes, bearing a imperial tally, and you are a prisoner... Why do you not kneel?"

"That obeisance in the past was precisely so that I would not kneel today!" From seven or eight paces away, Zhang Liang, his hair bun in disarray beneath his yellow turban, his eyes bloodshot and his face utterly haggard, still stood erect and held his head high.

Though his tone was mild, he still carried a certain presence.

"I understand." Gongsun Xun nodded slowly. "Since you have come to this appointment, I will not break my word. How do you wish to die?"

"If possible, I ask my old acquaintance to use a bowstring in place of white silk, and leave my corpse whole." Zhang Liang sighed. "If another were to do this, they might incur suspicion of colluding with the Yellow Turbans. But my old acquaintance has annihilated hundreds of thousands of our Yellow Turbans, killed my second brother, forced Bu Ji to his death, and beheaded Bo Cai with his own hand... I imagine you are one of the few who need not care about such suspicion."

Before those around him, Fu Xie and Lou Gui, could even object, Gongsun Xun slowly nodded his assent: "I would not yet break faith with a man. Yigong, you do it..."

"Forget it!" At that moment, it was Zhang Liang himself who suddenly lowered his head and sighed. "Having fallen to such an end, why must I still force a heroic and awe-inspiring pose? Please, take my head!"

"Why this change?" Gongsun Xun immediately frowned.

"I see my old acquaintance harbors some slight compassion. In that case, after killing me, you might as well have your subordinates take my head and call for surrender. Perhaps a few more may live." Zhang Liang remained composed.

Gongsun Xun nodded silently. Fu Xie and Lou Gui beside him were also speechless.

Han Dang immediately drew his blade, but at that moment Zhang Liang suddenly made a strange movement — he first turned to stand facing south, then before Han Dang could approach, he suddenly turned again to face north. In the end, he who had never lost his dignity and composure suddenly broke down in tears, catching everyone off guard.

"My old acquaintance was so composed before; now that the moment has come, do you actually fear death?" Gongsun Xun immediately showed impatience. "Are you brothers actually less than the likes of Bu Ji and Bo Cai?"

"It is not that." Zhang Liang's face was streaked with tears, his voice panicked and distraught. "Just now, I thought my eldest brother was in the south, and wished to die facing south. But then I suddenly remembered that my second brother and our hometown of Yingtao are both in the north, and I wished to die facing north... Yet north and south cannot both be fulfilled. Can a defeated general not even face death with equanimity?"

The people around him fell silent for a moment. Even Fu Xie, who regarded them as rebels and had never shown them a kind look, could not help but show a solemn expression.

Gongsun Xun sighed and waved his hand toward Han Dang. The latter no longer hesitated; one stroke rose, blood sprayed three chi, and Zhang Liang, his spirit not knowing whether to go south or fly north, thus perished.

With Zhang Liang dead, it could be said that this final battle had at least been given some closure. Gongsun Xun, listless and utterly devoid of fighting spirit, simply had Fu Xie take Zhang Liang's head and the two captured banners to call for surrender everywhere, while he himself turned back to a patch of high ground not far away, dismounted, closed his eyes, and rested.

And just as Gongsun Xun and Lou Gui had guessed, after Zhang Liang was beheaded, the Yellow Turbans immediately lost their last shred of will to resist. Indeed, many chose to surrender, but indeed, many also continued, one after another, to turn and head toward the Zhang River.

Gongsun Xun's response of closing his eyes was also a way of coping with helplessness... Faced with a peasant uprising that clearly bore the nature of a cult and was doomed from the start, as a general born of a noble family, he felt he had already done the utmost. At the very least, the tens of thousands of prisoners of war sold off to Liaodong from Xiaquyang allowed him a clear conscience.

And at this moment, based on the experience and lessons from that time in Dongjun, closing his eyes to not see, shutting his mouth to not speak, and giving these people the freedom to choose was the best way to respond.

But... some things were not up to him.

"My lord!" Guan Yu suddenly came to the slope with several riders to report. "Among the Yellow Turban rebels, I saw an old acquaintance about to throw himself into the river. I wished to call him to surrender, but he would not answer. I suppose my rank is too low, and my words do not carry enough weight to win his trust. So I simply fought into the formation to bind him and bring him here, to ask my lord to grant him a word of promise..."

Gongsun Xun slightly opened his eyes, then burst out with a chuckle: "Wang the Daoist, you were originally a spy I planted at Zhang Jiao's side. Why would you also want to die for the Yellow Turbans?"

Wang Xian, Wang the Daoist, bound and placed on the ground, raised his gaunt, horse-faced visage and forced a smile: "General, do not mock me, and moreover, do not slander my good name. When did I ever act as a spy for the general?"

"My lord!" Guan Yu cupped his hands and spoke. "Wang the Daoist must have been at Zhang Jiao's side so long that he has been deluded by the cult. I beg you, considering that his conduct has many commendable points and that he is an old acquaintance from Handan, to be sure to pardon him this once!"

Gongsun Xun nodded slightly.

However, before this General of the Household of All Purposes could coordinate with Guan Yu to save this man, the one who was bound completely, able only to lift his head with effort from the ground, had already answered loudly and bluntly:

"Zhang Jiao may be a demonic Daoist, and the Way of Great Peace a sorcerer's path, but I, Wang Xian of Taiyuan, am also a creature of heresy and evil, something this world cannot tolerate! To see you old acquaintances before I die today, and to bid you farewell, is already enough! If my lord and all my old acquaintances are still willing to acknowledge me, Wang Xian, then please, I beg you to grant me this!"

—————I am the dividing line that begs for fulfillment—————

"Xian, after parting in Handan, was heard of no more. Years later, when the Grand Ancestor campaigned against the Yellow Turbans at Guangzong, on the verge of victory, he lodged in camp at night and suddenly dreamed of Xian. In the dream, Xian wished to tell the Grand Ancestor: 'Tonight the Yellow Turbans will go to the Zhang River; you may cut them off there.' The Grand Ancestor asked: 'You, sir, are a Daoist who has long associated with Zhang Jiao; why do you tell me this?' Xian replied: 'The world is in turmoil; the one who can settle men's hearts is you, my lord, not Jiao. Moreover, when the realm is contested, the innocent are many. May my lord ever hold them with benevolent thoughts!' The Grand Ancestor awoke, sent forth all his cavalry to the Zhang River, took Zhang Liang's head, and thus pacified the Yellow Turbans." — Old Book of Yan, Biographies of Alchemists

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(End of Chapter)