Chapter 27: First Battle

Shanyang County lay southeast of Xi'an, about three hundred li away, under the jurisdiction of Shangzhou Prefecture. Shanyang sat within the Shangluo Mountains, surrounded on all sides by mountain ranges. The entire county had a population of barely over thirty thousand, and most of its farmland was mountainous terrain—only the area near the county seat was somewhat level.

The county wall had fallen into disrepair over the years and was already crumbling badly, but because tax revenues were insufficient, it was difficult to repair. Several sections of the wall's top were already damaged—if bandits came to attack, defending it would be extraordinarily difficult.

The city held about ten thousand people, and its few streets were pitted and uneven, with shops along the way seeing few customers. After all, Shanyang was in a remote location, and on top of that, there was a bandit stronghold in the mountains east of the city that constantly harassed the area and robbed passing merchants, making traders view going to Shanyang for business as a perilous undertaking. Without commerce to drive it, the lives of Shanyang's already impoverished people were made even worse.

At this moment, inside the shabby second hall of the county office, Shanyang County Magistrate Xun Wenli was conversing with a visitor.

Xun Wenli was around fifty years old, a native of Yingchuan, Henan, who claimed to be a descendant of Xun Yu, the famous strategist of Cao Wei during the Three Kingdoms period—though unfortunately he possessed not even a tenth of his ancestor's talent. He began his studies at age five, only passed the government student examination in his thirties, then failed the higher examinations repeatedly. Five years ago he barely passed the provincial examination at the bottom of the list. Knowing full well that advancing further was hopeless, it happened that the court was selecting candidates for county magistrate posts across the realm. Because Shanyang was remote and frequently ravaged by the roving bandits, no one was willing to go there to serve as an official.

Xun Wenli was also a man of daring spirit, unwilling to grow old and die in obscurity as a country squire. Gritting his teeth and disregarding his family's objections, he accepted the post of Shanyang County Magistrate—by now he had served three years in office.

When he first arrived at his post, he did want to accomplish some achievements—first, to accumulate merit for future promotion, and second, to show his family, who had opposed him, what he could do. No sooner had he taken office than he went down to the countryside, encouraging villagers to reclaim wasteland and plant cotton and mulberry.

In the first year alone, over a thousand mu were reclaimed, including more than eight hundred mu of grain fields—for a small county of a few tens of thousands of people, this counted as a decent achievement. Calculated at one dan per mu, the second year could increase production by about eight hundred dan. At that point, the Ministry of Personnel's assessment would surely record a commendable entry.

Unfortunately, man proposes, heaven disposes. In the second year, with the harvest nearly ripe and the county having organized the people to complete the reaping, the bandit chief who had entrenched himself nearby, Zheng Qi Wang, led his men in an attack on the villagers transporting the harvested grain to the county seat. They seized all the grain and wounded or killed a number of villagers.

Xun Wenli's dream of promotion was shattered. At year's end, the Ministry of Personnel's assessment recorded a major demerit against him, which directly cut off his future prospects. Barring the unexpected, when this final year of his term ended, he would pack his bedding and slink back home in disgrace.

The man conversing with Xun Wenli was none other than Sun Chuanting's standard camp Adjutant, the Yongwei Camp Chiliarch Luo Shifang.

Leading five hundred cavalry carrying five days of military rations, traveling by night and resting by day, he had arrived in Shanyang yesterday after a three-day march. At this moment, the five hundred government troops were resting and awaiting orders in a deserted mountain gully north of the county seat. He had come to the county office with two guards in civilian dress, claiming to be relatives from the Magistrate's hometown, and gained an audience with Xun Wenli.

After they met, Luo Shifang produced the Governor's written order, and Xun Wenli hurriedly invited him into the second hall for conversation.

After tea was served, Xun Wenli spoke: "May I ask what business brings General Luo here? Shanyang's tax levy for this year should have been two thousand taels, but this humble official, lacking ability, only collected one thousand taels. They are in the treasury storehouse now—when the General returns, you might as well carry them to the Governor's office. Alas, this should be the last time I pay taxes for the court!"

Hearing these words, Luo Shifang did not reveal the purpose of his visit, but instead asked about the reason behind Xun Wenli's final remark.

Xun Wenli smiled bitterly and recounted the grain-seizing, man-killing incident of last year. His tone was desolate, laced with deep unwillingness, and when he spoke of the bandit chief Zheng Qi Wang, it was with utter hatred.

Luo Shifang smiled and said: "Why should the Magistrate be so dejected? This officer has come on orders this time, and happens to be bringing a fortune to Your Honor!"

Xun Wenli's spirits lifted at these words, and he leaned forward, asking: "What makes the General say such a thing? My jurisdiction is unsettled, my people have been killed—where is this fortune?"

Luo Shifang laughed: "The roving bandits ravage Your Honor's territory, making the region unstable, which is why the Ministry of Personnel recorded a demerit against you. What if Your Honor exterminates the bandits within your jurisdiction and pacifies the region?"

Xun Wenli's eyes lit up at once—nowadays, merit in bandit suppression was ranked first among achievements. If he could wipe out the bandits in his territory, then last year's grain seizure and deaths would become a trivial matter. It would be a great accomplishment, one that might even reach the ears of His Majesty, who hated the roving bandits to the bone. But then he thought it over, and his eyes dimmed. He sighed: "This humble official commands no more than five hundred local militia and archers—barely enough to defend the county seat. How could I have the strength to exterminate the bandits!"

Luo Shifang asked: "May I ask, Your Honor, how many bandits does this Zheng Qi Wang command? What is their fighting capability?"

Xun Wenli replied: "The bandit Zheng Qi Wang is named Zuo Erhu, a native of this county. He was actually a deserter from the border troops. Several years ago he fled back to his old haunts and gathered men in the mountains. He started with barely a hundred men, but after years of plundering, his reputation grew, and refugees and hereditary military household members kept drifting in to join him. He now commands over two thousand bandits, of whom a full five hundred are hardened veterans—his elite core. Among them are over a hundred cavalry with fine armor and weapons. The rest hold nothing but clubs and farm tools—not worth fearing."

Luo Shifang said proudly: "Let Your Honor know, I am originally of the imperial Yongwei Camp, and this time I have come to Shaanxi by imperial order, leading five hundred horsemen as part of Lord Sun's standard camp. My family has been a military house for generations, and I trained in martial arts from childhood. I dare not boast that I am the bravest of three armies, but this sort of grass-bandit has never been worth a glance from me! My ambition is to sweep away all bandits for His Majesty, to build merit and win a marquisate or generalship. Does Your Honor think I came alone? Five hundred elite horsemen are already at hand—the blades and spears of my lads are thirsting for the blood of the enemy. Your Honor, what further concern do you have?"

Xun Wenli's spirits soared, and he laughed aloud: "Hahaha! With a fierce warrior like General Luo, why worry that the bandits will not be destroyed!"

The two then discussed their plans, after which Luo Shifang led his guards out of the city.

On the gentle mid-slope of a great mountain east of Shanyang sat a mountain stronghold built along the contours of the terrain. Its south, west, and north sides were all enclosed by stone walls over one man's height. The stronghold gate faced due west, and facing the gate was a narrow sloping path.

Inside the gate, on either side, stood an arrow tower, each with archers keeping watch as suppressive fire. If enemies came to attack, the archers could each be increased to five men—for ordinary government troops, this was already very difficult to breach. Moreover, the government forces were currently busy exterminating large bands of roving bandits everywhere and had never attempted to attack this place.

In the great hall of the stronghold, Zheng Qi Wang Zuo Erhu was drinking and making merry with several of his chieftains.

He was in his thirties, originally a border soldier of Yansui Garrison. He had served in the army for over ten years, rising by merit to Company Commander. Once, during a bandit-suppression campaign, because he and several trusted men had raped the wives and concubines of a wealthy household, that family reported him to the Regional Commander. His superiors, following military law, intended to execute him and his men. A fellow townsman serving in the Regional Commander's office secretly informed him of this. Zuo Erhu took weapons and fled by night with his trusted men, returning to his hometown of Shanyang, where he found the site for the stronghold and settled there.

Afterwards, they slipped into the home of a wealthy Shanyang family by night, slaughtered all twenty-odd members of the household, and seized several thousand taels of silver. They then recruited some refugees and deserters from hereditary military households, slowly growing stronger.

His trusted man, Saodihu Li Hanwa, offered Zuo Erhu a bowl of wine and said: "Great King, we're somebody now—who around here doesn't tremble at our name? But staying cooped up in this mountain gully all day is suffocating. Why don't we go bigger and take the county seat? Then wouldn't the Great King be a regional lord? And us brothers could get ourselves made grand generals!"

Another trusted man, Jiutiaolong, also spoke: "Great King, we brothers all joined the army just to earn a meal, never imagining we'd build such a fearsome reputation following you! I think Saodihu is right—we should pull off something big and take the county seat directly! Let's compare ourselves to the Dashing King, Yellow Tiger, and Cao Cao—show them we're no worse!"

The others chimed in agreement. Zuo Erhu narrowed his eyes, thinking to himself that he had never imagined, after deserting from the army, that he could raise such a large force and build such a great name.

Now, in the whole Shanyang and Shangzhou region, who didn't know the name of Zheng Qi Wang? Those country gentry, fearing he would attack them, all sent silver, grain, and other provisions monthly. Passing merchant caravans obediently paid their road tolls in advance. And refugees and military household deserters came to join every day.

Staying in this mountain stronghold forever was no long-term plan. If he took the county seat, then his fame would truly spread far and wide.

Zuo Erhu was very well informed—many gentry and merchant caravans, eager to curry favor with him, supplied him with large amounts of intelligence from all over.

He knew the court's main efforts were currently focused on the Dashing King, Cao Cao, Zhang Xianzhong, and other great rebel factions, leaving the heartland of Shaanxi stripped of troops. If he could take Shanyang and hold his ground, then capture Shangzhou and plunder it, he could recruit even more soldiers. If government troops came to attack, he could retreat to the stronghold. If they ignored him, he could use Shanyang as a base to plunder everywhere and grow stronger.

Thinking this far, he spoke: "Jiutiaolong, arrange for a few brothers to disguise themselves and enter the city to scout the defenses. Once we've scouted it out clearly, we'll take the county seat in one push!"

Jiutiaolong shouted excitedly: "The Great King has real spirit! That broken-down county seat doesn't even need scouting—those local militia inside couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag! When the time comes, we'll send some brave brothers in first to serve as inside men once the attack starts, seize the city gates, and when the Great King leads the brothers charging in, those worthless militia will have already run off! Once we're inside, those soft-skinned, delicate official ladies and their families—won't they be ours to do with as we please!"

The whole band of bandits burst into wild laughter, savoring the thought of enjoying the officials' womenfolk.

Just then, a scout disguised as a commoner hurried into the great hall, knelt on one knee before Zuo Erhu, and reported: "Let the Great King know, I got word in the county seat that that dog of a Magistrate is organizing militia and archers, saying he's coming to wipe out our stronghold. As soon as I heard, I rushed back to report!"

Zuo Erhu and the others were startled for a moment, then burst into laughter.

Zuo Erhu laughed until tears came out, gasping for breath: "Damn it all—when you're dozing, someone brings you a pillow! I was just thinking about how to take the county seat, and here this dog official has gathered his men and delivered them to our doorstep! A few hundred pieces of trash like that aren't even enough to fill the gaps between our teeth! Once we wipe out this rabble, the county seat will be like a stripped-naked woman, just waiting for us brothers to have our way with her, hahahaha!"

Jiutiaolong and the others also laughed and echoed their agreement. Zuo Erhu ordered Saodihu and the others to muster five hundred elite veterans of the old camp and a thousand able-bodied foot soldiers to descend the mountain and meet the enemy, while the old and weak stayed behind to guard the stronghold.

Zuo Erhu led his force out of the stronghold and followed the mountain path to the main road. The main body of foot soldiers marched in front, the chieftains and the old camp in the middle, and a hundred cavalry brought up the rear as the rearguard—a total of fifteen hundred men advancing along the main road in full force toward the county seat.

Though Zuo Erhu and the others had come from the regular army and had been on a few battlefields, they were only low-ranking officers after all. They could barely manage drilling small squads of men; once the numbers grew large, they had no idea how to meet an enemy or maintain formation.

The foot soldiers in front were less soldiers than refugees. The weapons in their hands were a motley assortment—some carried manure forks, some iron shovels, some short axes, some kitchen knives. Most of the foot soldiers wielded clubs as their weapons, and only a very few carried sabers or spears—those counted as the elite among the foot soldiers.

These saber- and spear-bearers strutted arrogantly at the very front of the column, a thousand men jostling forward in chaos.

Behind the foot soldiers came Zuo Erhu's old camp. Compared to the foot soldiers ahead, they were far more elite—their weapons were basically all sabers and spears. There were a few gunners holding matchlock firearms and over twenty archers, serving as the ranged striking force.

These few dozen men walked in the front ranks of the old camp, while Zuo Erhu and the other bandit chiefs rode their horses along one side of the old camp's formation.

A hundred paces behind came the hundred cavalry, also cobbled together—some rode mules, some rode draft horses. The ones who could truly fight were only a few dozen bandits riding warhorses. These men were either deserters or bandits who had come to join Zuo Erhu after seeing his power grow.

After marching for about a quarter of an hour—it was the ninth month of the year, and nearing noon the sun beat down directly, the temperature still quite high, compounded by the heat radiating from so many bodies—the foot soldiers up front began to fall into disorder as they walked. Some stopped to pull out their water gourds and drink, some unfastened their belts to urinate by the roadside, some simply sat down by the road to rest. They chattered and shouted like a market fair.

Once the front halted, the rear could not advance. Jiutiaolong trotted his horse forward, swung his horsewhip, and lashed it down on a bandit urinating by the roadside, cursing as he whipped: "Pissing on your mother's orders! This is going to war, you're asking to die, damn you! What have I taught you all this time? I'll beat you to death, you bastard!"

That bandit was whipped into a howling mess, not even having time to pull up his trousers—he spread his legs and dodged into the crowd. The whole band of bandits roared with laughter. Those who had been drinking water or sitting quickly got back into formation, and the column slowly began moving again.

Zuo Erhu felt helpless inside. Most of these men had only recently joined, and he and his chieftains didn't understand how to drill a large force, so for now he had to make do.

Besides, within several hundred li in every direction there was no proper government army. Against ordinary armed forces, his old camp was more than enough. The rest were just there to swell the numbers and intimidate the enemy—in plain words, to scare people. Once he took the county seat, he really ought to drill these bastards properly. They ate his food and drank his drink—what damn use was it if all they did was wave flags and shout from behind?

As they marched on, the terrain ahead gradually opened up. On both sides of the road were flat wastelands—these were the lands Xun Wenli had organized the people to reclaim. After last year's robbery, the common folk had not planted them again, and this stretch had once more become wasteland.

Several hundred paces to the right of the main road was a small hill. Though not large, from the road this hill blocked the line of sight. Behind the hill, Luo Shifang sat his horse in full armor, holding a long spear, standing in silent array. Behind him were four hundred Yongwei Camp cavalry. The horses all had bits in their mouths, so the entire mounted force made almost no sound.

Not far down the main road, a small force appeared in the bandits' view—these were Shanyang County's four hundred local militia and archers.

County Magistrate Xun Wenli and Constable Mou Dayong each rode a mule, standing at the front of the formation.

At this moment, Zuo Erhu had already spotted Xun Wenli's contingent. He ordered his men to meet the enemy. Jiutiao Long spurred his horse to the front of the infantry, drew his waist blade, pointed it forward, and roared: "Kill the dog of a County Magistrate and earn a hundred taels of silver—charge!" With that, he charged ahead at the head of his men.

The two forces were several hundred paces apart. The local militia formed a rough approximation of a square formation—thirty archers in front, two hundred spearmen behind them, and a hundred sword-and-shield men on each flank. Though they were only militia, Constable Mou Dayong regularly drilled them during the slack farming seasons, so they had at least some semblance of order.

Xun Wenli watched the bandits charging toward him in great numbers, the lead rider fierce-looking and bellowing as he came. His face turned pale, his hands and feet went weak, and he nearly tumbled from his mule. Mou Dayong was stocky and wore a suit of iron armor. Because he dealt with martial matters regularly, his courage was sturdier than that of a literatus like Xun Wenli. Seeing the situation, he hurriedly said: "My lord, you had best move to the rear of the formation. Once the charge collides, I fear you might be hurt. I will take command here!"

Xun Wenli said with a trembling voice: "Very well, very well—I leave this place to Constable Mou! Remember, if you can hold for just a quarter of an hour, the Governor's cavalry will arrive and slaughter them!"

Having said this, he turned his mule around and trotted slowly toward the rear of the formation.

Mou Dayong steeled his heart, thinking to himself that at worst he would give his life here today. He gripped his bow and shouted back: "Archers, prepare! After loosing three volleys, immediately peel off to the flanks. Spearmen, move up to the front. Sword-and-shield men, guard the sides!"

The several hundred militiamen were also trembling with fear, but with the Constable right there beside them, their courage swelled somewhat. The thirty archers drew their bows and nocked their arrows, angling them toward the sky. Seeing the bandits enter bow range, Mou Dayong roared: "Loose!"

By this time, Jiutiao Long's warhorse had already charged to within some thirty paces. Mou Dayong's first arrow struck the mount dead-on. The warhorse let out a mournful whinny and crashed to the ground, pinning Jiutiao Long firmly beneath it.

A ripple of bowstrings sounded, and thirty long arrows flew in a high arc through the air. After traveling some distance, they turned and plunged toward the earth.

The bandits in front, bearing spears and blades, were charging at the head of the rush. Because the charging mass was densely packed, every arrow loosed by the archers found its mark. A chorus of miserable screams rang out—a dozen or more bandits clad only in cloth garments toppled over. Some were struck in the head, some had their necks pierced clean through, and some took shafts in the shoulders. In an instant, more than ten men were dead or wounded. The bandits who had not been hit cried out in alarm and tried to halt their steps, but those behind, unaware of what was happening up front, kept shouting and surging forward—and promptly collided with those who had stopped ahead. The scene dissolved into utter chaos.