Chapter 86: Fleeing

Taizhou City.

Overlooking the approaching imperial troops outside the city, Huang Renlong’s face was grimly dark.

It wasn’t because the enemy was too strong—quite the opposite, they were too weak.

If the enemy had appeared formidable, clearly elite troops, then his previous defeat would have been understandable.

These imperial troops before him had neither uniform discipline nor imposing physiques.

They shuffled along lazily, their faces dusty and sallow, the entire army steeped in lethargy.

From what he saw, it was impossible to equate this rabble with the elite force that had defeated them.

If that rabble had been the ones to defeat them last time, then the rebel army’s combat effectiveness truly had no standing.

“Have you confirmed for certain that this enemy force truly comes from Yangzhou City?”

Huang Renlong asked uncertainly.

He could easily accept that imperial troops from other regions were this poor.

In past trips smuggling salt, he had dealt with garrisons across various regions.

Due to lack of training, garrison troops were generally lax.

Their combat awareness was virtually zero; dropping a few taels of silver on the road could make these unworldly fools stop dead.

But last time’s assault on Yangzhou was different—the defenders’ quality far surpassed what these soldiers could ever match.

“Big Brother, no need to doubt it—these men truly come from Yangzhou City.

Some of them are old acquaintances; I sent people to pay for information.

It’s said there was internal conflict within the Five City Military Command: the powerful generals looked down on the nominal officers who just drifted through their posts, and the two factions had fierce arguments.

It might also have something to do with Grand Coordinator Xu, who can’t coexist with another imperial envoy in one city.

When he first arrived, no one from Yangzhou came to greet him.

Government officials are masters at infighting; to seize power, Grand Coordinator Xu must have clashed with Marquis Wuyang.

Later, something happened—suddenly, the Five City Military Command split into two forces, advancing north and south simultaneously.

The force we encountered before was regular troops; most soldiers were the generals’ personal retainers, naturally formidable.

This force before us is led by a commander surnamed Rong.

Supposedly from the family of Consort Rong—a pure wastrel.

Those accompanying him are all famous wastrels from the capital.

Aside from their hired thugs, the rest are Yangzhou native soldiers with little combat value.”

Huang Renliang explained.

Adversity is the easiest path to growth.

In the past, he always followed his brother’s lead, rarely needing to think for himself.

Lately, Huang Renlong suddenly gave up, drowning in luxury every day, leaving many military affairs to him.

Forced to handle them, he had changed entirely.

Problems he once never considered, he now watched carefully.

“If that’s true, then this battle will be easy.

Send someone to verify whether the other wing of the Five City Military Command has entered Xinghua County.

Marquis Wuyang isn’t a fool—he wouldn’t normally send these men to die. I fear this is the enemy’s trick!”

Huang Renlong nodded.

Court intrigues weren’t strange, but these men’s identities were special.

Either imperial in-laws or scions of noble houses, each with a bigger background than the last.

In the past, if one of these bastards died in their jurisdiction, local officials would panic and jump into the river.

Sending so many of them out as cannon fodder at once? It looked unmistakably like a trap.

…

“Attack the city!”

Seeing no movement from the enemy, Commander Rong immediately gave the order.

But given his history of bizarre commands and the many setbacks they’d suffered, his officers hesitated.

“Commander, we have no siege equipment!

The military manuals clearly state that siege equipment is required to take a city.

Last time the rebels attacked Yangzhou, they used plenty of siege weapons.”

Shi Haifu spoke up.

As another capital wastrel, he felt superior to Commander Rong, a complete military novice.

As a noble scion, though he was useless, he’d been forced as a child to read a few military texts.

Most of it he’d forgotten, but he still retained some basic knowledge.

Deep down, he had always dreamed:

One day, to lead troops into battle, to seal his glory at Langjuxu and carve his name on Yanran Stone, proving to those who looked down on him who was truly the best in his family.

But since it was a dream, it was confined to sleep.

Wake up, and he’d go back to eating, drinking, and doing nothing.

Court ministers weren’t fools; while the Great Yu army couldn’t claim a generation of great generals, there were still competent officers—and no one would entrust an army to a useless wastrel.

His dream of sealing glory at Langjuxu shattered, when the Yangzhou defense began, he went to petition Marquis Wuyang—and was coldly rebuffed.

Compared to his infamous reputation, they preferred to trust officers holding key military posts.

After a bout of resentment, he finally got his chance.

Compared to Marquis Wuyang, Commander Rong clearly wasn’t bright—he was far easier to manipulate.

“The rebels had siege equipment, yet still failed to breach Yangzhou.

The truth is, whether or not you have siege equipment isn’t the key to capturing a city.

But we’ve marched a long way; our troops are exhausted. Let’s rest two days first.

Send messengers to drop letters into the city urging surrender—the highest art of a general is to subdue the enemy without fighting!”

Commander Rong forced a dignified tone.

Taizhou may not rival Yangzhou, but its walls weren’t climbable by hand.

Forgetting siege equipment was his mistake—and his officers’ too.

Such a major oversight, and no one warned him beforehand? Clearly, they wanted him to humiliate himself.

They all moved in the same circles; he knew exactly what each of them was worth.

No good men in the wastrel circle; good men couldn’t become wastrels.

Many envied him as commander—he didn’t believe any of them would work hard.

Just as when Marquis Wuyang commanded, he himself had caused no end of trouble.

…

One after another, surrender letters flew into the city—but instead of yielding results, they provoked furious curses from the defenders.

Since breaking with the clans, rebel soldiers had transformed into peasant armies, with 99% illiterate.

Dropping surrender letters on illiterates was like insulting them for not knowing how to read.

Most couldn’t read—but some could.

“Our chance to defeat them has come. I’ll arrange a fake surrender to lure the enemy inside the city.

If they refuse to enter, we’ll use negotiations as an excuse to approach their commander and seize him.

There are many high-ranking officers among the enemy; capture as many alive as possible.

Later, they’ll be useful—we might even use them to trick other cities into surrendering!”

Huang Renlong spoke with renewed confidence.

His chance to turn things around had come—he couldn’t miss it.

Destroying this imperial force would restore all the prestige they’d lost.

Only when morale recovered could they plan their next move.

Logic told him Taizhou wasn’t a place to stay—nor was any part of Yangzhou Prefecture.

If he didn’t want to die at the hands of the court, he had to escape Yangzhou’s circle quickly, or he’d have no hope.

…

Gaoyou State.

Under fierce assault by the capital troops, the battered defenders of Baoying finally collapsed.

The news struck Wen Feiyang dumb.

The fall of Xinghua had been an accident; Baoying’s loss was the result of direct enemy assault.

Originally, the rebels had planned for Baoying to hold out for at least a month.

Overnight, Wen’s army, which had controlled one state and two counties, now held only a single isolated city.

Holding Gaoyou meant waiting to die; with the court’s manpower and resources, they could besiege them indefinitely.

Leaving Gaoyou’s walls and meeting the enemy in the wild would only mean dying faster.

Either way, death was certain—with no sign of survival.

Whether the dominant faction pushing for surrender or the radical faction advocating northern campaign, both had lost their former arrogance.

“General, the imperial army has completed its pincer encirclement—we’ve already lost strategically.”

Gaoyou is no longer a place to stay; we must leave as soon as possible.

The Da Yu dynasty has endured for over two hundred years; by now, it is time for a change of dynasties.

We merely had bad luck—our uprising came too early—but the final outcome remains unchanged: Da Yu will inevitably fall.

Without the burden of our base, we have many options.

We can retreat into the mountains to avoid the government troops' sharp edge, and strike again when the time is right.

We can also choose to become bandits and disrupt Da Yu's realm and dynasty.

As long as we run fast enough, the imperial army won’t catch us!’

Upon hearing Wen Feiyun’s words, everyone rolled their eyes.

All that grand posturing, and we thought there was some brilliant strategy—only to find it boils down to one word: run!

But it is indeed a valid strategy: if you can’t win, run—that’s the universal tactic.

As sons of noble families, they had read the histories.

Throughout history, no matter which rebel force, when faced with imperial encirclement, spent most of their time fleeing.

Even victories over government troops were achieved while on the run.

Rebellion has never been smooth sailing.

There has never been a case where an uprising began by crushing the imperial army, sweeping across the land, and conquering all warlords in one unbroken march.

‘Saying “run” is easy, but without our base in Gaoyou Prefecture, what will all these men eat?’

You’ve all read the histories—you know bandits aren’t easy to be.

Our clan members have never suffered the hardships of displacement; once we abandon our estates, I fear none of them will endure it!’

An elder spoke up in rebuttal.

It is hard to leave one’s homeland, especially for men of our age.

Leaving home now would most likely be a final farewell.

Struggling for the throne is pure fantasy—meant only to unite hearts and deceive the soldiers below.

As the planners, they themselves do not believe their family can ascend to the Central Plains.

There is no other reason: they’ve read too many books.

Since ancient times, those who rise first in rebellion are always forerunners to the true kings.

Scour the histories, and you’ll find not a single successful case.

‘Elder, we must endure this hardship.

If you are willing to follow and fight for the throne, join the main army.

If you do not wish to take the risk, while our family still has resources, send your kin away quickly.

In fact, besides us, the other few families have all arranged for their young members to leave secretly.

Either flee overseas, take refuge in the mountains, or assume new identities.

Under heaven, all land belongs to the Son of Heaven—where can we possibly run?

Even if we temporarily escape, once our identities are exposed, we will inevitably be purged by the court.

Moreover, our reputation is known far and wide; everyone in the land knows salt merchants are the wealthiest.

To outsiders, we few families are like walking gold and silver mountains.

Even for the sake of money alone, many will secretly pursue us.’

Wen Feiyun said with a helpless expression.

Since ancient times, wealth stirs the heart; our name is simply too loud.

Even if the court seizes our properties across the land, outsiders will not believe it.

According to the traditions of great families, for the sake of descendants, who doesn’t hide a few secret treasuries?

‘If there is no better plan, then follow Feiyun’s suggestion: abandon Gaoyou Prefecture.

To avoid being wiped out in one blow, I have decided to split our rebel force into three, each heading south, north, and west to break out.

Including Jianping’s group already departed, we now have four columns—perfect, as our four branches each lead one.

For clan members unwilling to join the rebellion, I will provide some travel funds and arrange secret departures.

From now on, unless the Wen family seizes the throne, the scattered branches must never contact each other!’

Wen Feiyang made the decision with heavy heart.

Our strength was already weak; splitting our forces will only further weaken the rebel army.

But there is no choice—we must flee.

The strength of the rebel army is secondary; the key is preserving the family’s bloodline.

If we do not scatter, and the enemy blocks us, we will be annihilated.

‘You young ones go!

The government troops are coming with overwhelming force; someone must stay behind to hold them off and buy time for the main army’s retreat.

We old bones are already past our prime—we might as well give one final service to our family!’

The elder who volunteered to stay behind was the same one who had opposed evacuation earlier.

……

(End of Chapter)