Chapter 112: Fighting Over Jack Shit

On the eastern bank of the Yellow River, a patch of melon fields had appeared, densely packed with countless round objects, accompanied by a thick stench of corpses and blood…

These objects were human heads — several hundred of them — all taken by the Fifth Battalion, all genuine captives, their features unmistakably clear: hair braided on their heads, and all manner of bizarre pendants, wolf fangs, even human finger bones.

The reason for laying out all the trophies was, first, to let the people on the western bank — who had fled east in terror two days before — see with their own eyes that the barbarian raiders who had ravaged their homeland had indeed been slaughtered in such numbers by the Fifth Battalion, deepening their gratitude and admiration for Major Boyu.

Second, it made counting easier.

"Three hundred seventy-six. Three hundred seventy-seven."

This was the third count. Xuan Biao had already vomited three times; he still could not grow accustomed to this life drenched in blood, yet he persisted in recording the numbers in the register — first the total, then the heads Diwu Lun had distributed to each squad based on his own eyewitness account of their performance. In the chaos of battle, it was impossible to kill a man and stoop to cut off a head each time. Fortunately, the army was small and the battlefield narrow, so Diwu Lun could still personally apportion the rewards. Any larger a force, and he would need loyal and impartial trusted men to oversee each unit's fighting.

After the trophies were tallied, Xuan Biao said to Diwu Lun with deep feeling, "I have heard that in the Han dynasty, they prized head-count merit. If it were still like those times today, how richly the soldiers would be rewarded."

Diwu Lun nodded. Xuan Biao had deliberately skipped over the Qin dynasty, but Diwu Lun had read the Wei Liaozi, which occasionally touched on Qin institutions. He had heard there were twenty ranks of nobility in all: low-ranking soldiers were promoted according to the heads they took, each promotion bringing more land, fields, and houses, along with state-assigned serfs to help work the land; high-ranking officers were judged and rewarded based on the total heads taken by the troops under their command.

As for the Han dynasty that Xuan Biao fondly remembered, although the military-merit nobility had long existed in name only, rewards still remained — only they had shifted from land grants to cash payments.

In the fortified outpost where the army was encamped, Diwu Lun had also discovered a cache of Han-era bamboo slips. One of them, the "Regulations on Rewards for Capturing and Beheading Xiongnu Raiders and Rebel Qiang," explicitly stipulated: a frontier soldier who took one Xiongnu head, or captured one barbarian or Qiang rebel alive, could advance one rank in salary grade; those unwilling to take office were rewarded with thirty thousand cash.

Diwu Lun checked the date — it was from the reign of Emperor Xuan of Han, barely three generations ago. So did this system still exist?

It did, in theory, but worn away day by day, month by month, it existed in name only.

The twenty ranks of nobility — that brutal Qin institution — were, of course, utterly spurned and rejected by a court that styled itself "the Beautiful Xin."

Grant land for heads taken? There was no land left. The empire's population had likely already broken the sixty-million mark, all crammed into the Central Plain. Coupled with severe land annexation, reviving the ranked land-and-residence system was utterly impossible.

Grant soldiers land on the frontier? Wasn't that just tricking people into staying in some desolate backwater? Everyone wanted to go home.

Grant land all the way down in Jiangdong or Jiaozhou? Trekking thousands of li, with death rates of thirty to forty percent along the way — no thank you, I'll pass on the land. Better to go back home and be a tenant farmer, or even a slave.

Only the Boar-Rush Braves, who were slaves to begin with, were easy to fool.

Well then, could taking heads at least earn cash rewards? It could, in theory, but after three or four currency reforms in the space of ten years, the Great Xin's money was no longer money — it was practically becoming an entry pass for the city gates. You stake your life to hack off one barbarian head, and in exchange you get a few flimsy "Large Coin Worth a Thousand." Do the math and it looks like a lot of money, but in reality it weighs less than the head itself. Outside the big cities, you can barely spend it; the government offices themselves refuse to accept it, and it'll be devalued tomorrow. Is it worth it?

To sum it all up: "You get jack shit!"

If the system were strictly enforced and you truly got a fart, at least you'd hear a sound. Though ordinary soldiers could not hope to gain the slightest benefit from battle honors, officers could still use them to win promotion and wealth.

But in most cases, you fought bravely at the front, only for your credit to be misattributed to someone else, benefiting others, and in the end you got not even a fart.

The affair of those two "Lu Fang heads" alone showed that under the Great Xin's rotten system, any kind of grotesque absurdity was possible.

As it happened, after the Xiongnu left, Liangqiu Ci had given them an on-the-spot demonstration of battling wits against thin air, engaging a great barbarian army from scores of li away.

"Utterly useless at fighting the enemy, yet remarkably skilled at scrambling for credit and rewards — the world never lacks for mediocre officials like that." Ma Yuan held Liangqiu Ci in complete contempt, and took the chance to warn Diwu Lun.

"Boyu, you must be careful. Do not let that scoundrel steal the blood and sweat of the Fifth Battalion."

Diwu Lun shook his head. "What I am contending for is not merely credit, but also how this battle is explained when the report is sent to the court afterward."

"What does the Major mean by that?" Xuan Biao was already one of the few men Diwu Lun trusted most, and was permitted to join his conversation with Ma Yuan.

Ma Yuan, drawing inferences, recalled all the strange things he had witnessed during his years as a postal inspector, and said with certainty, "Boyu means that Liangqiu Ci will never admit he shut his gates and stood by while the Xiongnu roamed his defense sector as though entering uninhabited land, fighting their way all the way to the great river!"

Xuan Biao was stunned. "But that is the truth! Liangqiu Ci let the Xiongnu penetrate deep into New Qinzhong; not only did he not send troops to strike the barbarians, he even shut the city gates and refused to admit the common people, forcing thousands of innocent folk to cross the river."

Diwu Lun smiled and said nothing, letting Ma Yuan, an old hand who had rolled through officialdom, continue disabusing Xuan Biao: "Liangqiu Ci will say that those foolish men and women panicked at the distant sight of the beacon smoke and fled in terror, like birds startled by the mere twang of a bowstring."

Xuan Biao, unconvinced, shot back, "And what of the hamlets ravaged by the barbarians? The signal towers overrun? The common people left unprotected and brutally slaughtered?"

Ma Yuan said, "Liangqiu Ci will say that those were perhaps the work of bandits and robbers taking advantage of the chaos — remnants of Lu Fang's forces, for instance, or the remnants of the 'Hemp Bandits,' who greatly disrupted the rear. But they have all been beheaded."

Xuan Biao was aghast. "Beheaded? Where?"

Ma Yuan gave a cold laugh. "The barbarians' slaughter was brutal. The heads of those common folk who died resisting them — aren't they just lying there ready-made? Believe me, Liangqiu Ci's first order will be to send men to collect and chop them off. Once they're hung on the city walls and called bandits, bandits they shall be!"

"But they clearly died bravely resisting the barbarians — they were righteous people!"

Though Xuan Biao had already suffered a harsh beating among the Boar-Rush Braves, he still had not imagined that the world could sink to such depths of calling black white.

Ma Yuan shook his head. Had he not seen through precisely this, had he not despaired of the court, why would he have set aside his fine family background, spurned the Palace Gentleman and Filial and Incorrupt nominations that were his for the asking, and drifted through the rivers and lakes?

Xuan Biao's temper was now fully roused, and he dug in against Ma Yuan: "Then what about the fact that six hundred brave men of the Fifth Battalion fought a bloody battle against the barbarians? The broken blades are still stuck in the earth, beside the gullies; the soldiers' blood is still there!"

Ma Yuan laughed. "Liangqiu Ci will say that the Xiongnu were hard-pressed by the main army, and a small band of barbarians fled in panic the wrong way, breaking out in reverse, and happened to run into the Fifth Battalion, who picked up the scraps here."

That was why Liangqiu Ci was so anxious for Diwu Lun to come see him at the county seat: he needed the Fifth Battalion's endorsement to turn blame into merit.

Xuan Biao's voice involuntarily rose. "But tens of thousands of common people on the opposite bank were watching! They saw with their own eyes the Major cross the great river, saw us fight day and night until the barbarians realized the difficulty and withdrew. I refuse to believe that one man, Liangqiu Ci, can stop the mouths of a multitude!"

"He can!"

This time it was Diwu Lun who answered him.

"Because what the court learns, what the Emperor hears, is not the mouths of the multitude."

"It is a single memorial from an official — and it cannot even be long. The Emperor may seem to hold all power under heaven, but in truth he can only know what is happening everywhere through these scant few hundred words."

Diwu Lun picked up the wooden tablet used to record the head count. "It is precisely this one flimsy memorial that can stop up the words of tens of thousands, even millions, even tens of millions of people — like a bone stuck in the throat!"

As for what really happened on the distant frontier, by the Yellow River, in the trenches and gullies — all the joys and sorrows, the partings and reunions, all the courage and cowardice — none of it mattered. It could not decide anything.

In the end, the contest was over who could blow the loudest horn in their memorial.

"Otherwise, why would the folk song in Chang'an go, 'Fighting hard in battle is not as good as crafting a clever memorial'?"

That was why the An Ding Dependent State, which blew its horn early and fast, had the chance to present the real Lu Fang head, while the Barbarian-Swallowing General, a step too slow, missed his golden opportunity.

Xuan Biao sat on the mat in a daze, murmuring, "But if only someone could make the Emperor know the truth…"

Diwu Lun asked him in return, "How do you make the Emperor know? Have the local common people walk thousands of li to knock at the palace gates? Can they even get near the Blue Dragon Gate? Or submit a letter? Who even has the standing to submit a letter?"

Diwu Lun had submitted memorials twice before. The first time was through the State Preceptor, Liu Xin.

But the situation was utterly different from a year ago. Diwu Lun had heard that the Crown Prince, Wang Lin, had been reassigned as some "King of Tongyi Yang" — tantamount to being deposed. Liu Xin, as the leader of the Crown Prince faction, had completely lost influence and could barely protect himself; he could no longer be counted on.

The second memorial had piggybacked on the victory over Lu Fang. As a major contributor, Diwu Lun had a few brief lines appended to the Barbarian-Swallowing General's memorial. He could count himself fortunate that Han Wei was still fair-minded enough not to conceal Diwu Lun's achievements; otherwise he would not have even gotten his empty title.

But now, captured Xiongnu had confessed that Han Wei's entire army had been wiped out — he was dead.

"General Han may truly be dead, but in the memorials other generals send to court, he might well come back to life."

Ma Yuan shook his head. "Han Wei's march beyond the frontier was supposed to advance on several routes simultaneously, yet in the end his lone force pushed deep and was annihilated beyond the border. The whole affair reeks of something strange."

"Exactly." Diwu Lun nodded. It was entirely possible that Han Wei's death would become another muddled account, just like the "Lu Fang head."

"The bad news is, with Han Wei dead, we no longer even have a channel to submit a memorial indirectly."

Diwu Lun laughed. "The good news is, Liangqiu Ci doesn't have one either."

That Liangqiu Ci had no solid backing was something Diwu Lun had long known.

"Could it be that Dou Rong does?" Xuan Biao suddenly understood. No wonder, the moment the battle ended, Diwu Lun had sent men ahead to make contact with the Duke of Zhou, Dou Rong, who was marching south to reinforce them.

"Dou Rong is a mere Colonel — what standing does he have for that?"

But Dou Rong's backer, the Grand Minister of Works Wang Yi, did have it. However, the person Diwu Lun had his eye on was someone else.

"Dou Rong's superior officer — who is also my superior officer and Liangqiu Ci's superior officer, the deputy commander of this northern campaign."

"General of Renewal Lian Dan! His attitude is what truly matters!"

……

Just as Ma Yuan had predicted, when Diwu Lun sent Wan Xiu to scout Shanghe City, he indeed saw a row of heads hanging from the city wall — not Xiongnu heads, but commoners'.

No — according to Liangqiu Ci's proclamations, these were the remnants of Lu Fang's forces and the Ma bandit remnants, who had been marauding through several counties for days, colluding with the Xiongnu, disrupting order, storming village gates, and slaughtering people like scything flax.

The people of Shanghe County, who regarded Liangqiu Ci as their savior, believed it completely. Even now, a gaggle of children were still pelting those innocent heads with stones!

Seeing this, Wan Xiu gritted his teeth and went back to report to Diwu Lun.

Liangqiu Ci was a "good man." He had not ordered the massacre of commoners to claim merit. He had merely killed a group of dead people — and, in the process, turned the surviving family members of those commoners, people who had barely escaped alive under the Xiongnu hooves, into convicted criminals doomed to collective punishment.

"More despicable than killing them outright."

To be fair, over the past half year and more, Liangqiu Ci had treated Diwu Lun rather well. But this time, it was no longer just a matter of skimming a little advantage or sharing a bit of credit, as when they had suppressed Lu Fang. This was a clash of fundamental interests, an essential difference in how they conducted themselves and their affairs.

This was the reason Diwu Lun had to stab Liangqiu Ci in the back.

And, of course, this was also why Diwu Lun dared not enter Shanghe City. Who knew what Liangqiu Ci might do with no way out left? A cornered rabbit will bite. He might just stage a midnight raid on the White Tiger Command Tent, cut down the equally backerless Diwu Lun first, and then report to Dou Rong that the Fifth Battalion had mutinied, so they could join forces to suppress it.

And so, when Diwu Lun and Liangqiu Ci met again, it was as they both awaited the arrival of Dou Rong's army. Liangqiu Ci's face was full of simmering rage as he sent men to demand why Diwu Lun had not come to Shanghe City to report in!

Diwu Lun arrived seated in a cart, his face deathly pale. Today, he had once again bound his hand in white cloth, and bloodstains were seeping through. With a mournful expression, he bowed to Liangqiu Ci and said, "Your subordinate fought a bloody battle with the Xiongnu and suffered severe wounds. Only today was I barely able to drag myself from my sickbed. I have already sent word to the Colonel explaining this."

Behind Diwu Lun stood the Fifth Battalion, fully armed and armored, eyeing them like tigers. Even if Liangqiu Ci wanted to settle this with blades, he would have to weigh the strength on both sides. Diwu Lun then shot him a meaningful glance, asking Liangqiu Ci to dismiss the others, and in a low voice reported to him alone the news of Han Wei's army being destroyed.

Diwu Lun was hinting to Liangqiu Ci that the two of them were grasshoppers tied to the same rope, and could only rely on each other now.

"This Colonel is already aware."

Seeing that Diwu Lun's attitude was still acceptable and that he seemed willing to share weal and woe, Liangqiu Ci breathed a slight sigh of relief. He said, with only a trace of displeasure, "Boyu, after winning a great victory, you are indeed not the same as before. I can overlook your being wounded, but why have you not handed over the Xiongnu heads you took, so that the merit can be reported?"

Hand them over to you? Wouldn't that be throwing meat buns to a dog? Whoever holds the heads holds the most cards in the battle at the table. This was the leverage Diwu Lun intended to use in his dealings with Dou Rong — how could he let Liangqiu Ci get his hands on it?

Diwu Lun merely bowed with clasped hands and said, "Colonel, the reason your subordinate urgently sent the heads to the east bank was that I feared Dou Rong, relying on his greater numbers, would try to monopolize the credit. We must guard against that!"