Chapter 174: Win-Win

After learning of his daughter's happy news, Ma Yuan realized that at thirty-six, he would probably become a grandfather next year — a thought that stirred a hundred tangled feelings in him.

Perhaps too absorbed in such feelings, Ma Yuan found himself inexplicably agreeing to Geng Yan's request, letting him take fifty men and pose as an "imperial envoy" heading for Wushi County seat (in the Fengfeng mining district of modern Handan).

The identity was fake, the envoy's staff a forgery — only Geng Yan's Guanzhong Maoling accent and his irrepressible arrogance seemed convincingly genuine. In any case, imperial envoys came and went so often, one or two every month, that the other side would have little reason to doubt him.

After Geng Yan departed, Zhao Pang, the Bandit Bureau Clerk, said to Ma Yuan with some worry: "Geng Bozhao is from a great northern clan; the commandery's Grand Governor treats him as an honored guest. If anything goes wrong…"

Ma Yuan was not the least bit concerned — he had personally tested Geng Yan's courage and resourcefulness: "At the end of Qin, Li Yiji, a mere old Confucian, still managed to easily cut off the Chenliu Magistrate's head and present it to Emperor Gaozu. How much more so Geng Yan?"

"If he cannot even accomplish this small task, then let him die. The only loss to Wei Cheng will be Geng Chun losing a clan nephew — nothing more."

Now, over the past half year or so, Diwu Lun had deliberately left the three northwestern counties alone, trying to lull the Li family into complacency. And when drilling troops at Yecheng, he always proclaimed they were going south to help the General of Renewal and others strike the Red Eyebrows; they set off southward, then quietly turned back north. The Li family should have little guard up now. Before the main force led by Ma Yuan was discovered by the enemy, they would first try to see if they could seize the place by surprise.

Otherwise, if those Li family branch members and former subordinates in Wushi County joined forces with the bandits of nearby Qinkou Mountain to resist stubbornly, the terrain there was so complex that the fighting would drag on.

Thanks to Diwu Lun's three-dimensional map, the outlines of the nearby terrain were all in Ma Yuan's mind. Qinkou Mountain was also called "Fu Mountain," from which the Fu River issued forth, its springs gushing like bubbling cauldron water.

At the foot of the mountain lay Wushi County seat; to the west, a treacherous road led straight to She County — this was the "Fukou Defile," the fourth of the Eight Defiles of the Taihang range, with towering, deep-set ridges, truly a perilous choke point.

The three divisions lay hidden several dozen li away; with every passing quarter-hour, the chance of being discovered by the Fu Mountain bandits grew. Seeing that the sun had already slipped past its zenith and there was still no sign of movement from Wushi County, while the detained shepherd boys and travelers grew ever more numerous and exposure was only a matter of time, the officers were all growing anxious — until the scouts sent near the county seat hurried back with a report.

"It's done!"

As dusk was about to fall, Ma Yuan led the vanguard hastily to Wushi County seat among the hills, only to find Geng Yan sitting cross-legged atop the city wall, drinking at his ease, his foot resting on a plump, rope-bound official. He had actually taken the unlucky Wushi County Magistrate hostage, successfully withdrawn from the county office under siege, and even seized control of a city gate — how had he pulled it off?

Seeing Ma Yuan arrive, Geng Yan, who had just been through a harrowing hostage-taking, showed no change of expression. He looked down and called to Ma Yuan: "Colonel Ma, well? I win this round, don't I?"

As expected of a young whelp barely eighteen or nineteen — still thinking of their contest at a time like this. Ma Yuan laughed and cursed back: "Now I am your superior. If you win, I win — what Boyu calls a win-win. And besides…"

"This battle is not over yet!"

That was indeed true. Although Geng Yan had taken the Wushi County Magistrate by surprise, the man was merely a puppet of the local strongmen and the Li family's old associates. Though they had been thrown into confusion by the sudden attack, they had now recovered their wits and immediately began organizing a counterattack, not caring in the least whether the opposing force was the imperial army or the Grand Governor's troops.

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From the east, west, and north of the city, men came surging forward, intent on driving the yellow-turbaned refugee soldiers out of the county seat.

And with a burst of battle cries, a band of outlaws also came charging down from Fu Mountain, planning to coordinate from within and without and beat back the Yellow Turban troops.

"Perfect timing — saves us the trouble of rooting them out in the mountains."

Ma Yuan ordered the five hundred men under Geng Yan to enter the city at once, while he hastily drew up his own troops in formation outside the south gate wall and gave Geng Yan his order:

"I strike outside; you strike inside!"

"Let us see whether you gain control of the county seat first, or I beat back the bandit horde first!"

…

"Does Ma Wenyuan think I am only good at cavalry warfare? He is mistaken."

The route Geng Yan chose for taking the city was along the top of the city wall.

Standing there, the whole small county seat — barely six li around (one Han li being over four hundred meters) — lay spread out before him. Geng Yan took a light arrow, nocked it on his horn bow, hooked his thumb on the string, and aimed toward the center of the county seat. The arrow flew like a shooting star, arcing high and then dropping, sailing clean over a small ward gate to land on a main north-south thoroughfare.

"Excellent."

Geng Yan understood. He turned back to look at the hundred-man squad he had personally selected from the conscripts. The reason he disliked refugee soldiers and insisted on selective conscription from registered households was that he needed men with a particular skill: archery.

Hunters and corded-arrow marksmen had been conscripted, trained, and then concentrated under Geng Yan's command — and today they would prove their great worth.

"Follow me along the wall. Whenever you see men forming up in the city below, treat them as rebels and shoot them down directly from this height!"

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Following Geng Yan's orders, the remaining four hundred foot soldiers — aside from a hundred left to guard the south gate — moved along the wall together with the archers, heading first for the east gate!

A distance of just over one li was covered in a flash. When Li family rebels tried to charge and attack the foot soldiers, Geng Yan deliberately let them close to within a few dozen paces before a sudden volley from the wall wounded over ten of them, sending the rest fleeing in disarray.

Geng Yan ordered his men not to pursue; the objective was the city gates!

This tactic avoided chaotic street fighting. By the time the sky was fully dark, the east and north gates had been taken in an orderly fashion, without a hitch. Of course, quite a few local civilians who fled in panic in groups were mercilessly shot down. Geng Yan turned a blind eye to the innocents caught on the battlefield, constantly shouting orders to loose arrows without hesitation. His eyes were fixed solely on the west gate, still under rebel control.

After repeatedly leaving men to hold the gates, only a hundred-odd foot soldiers remained, while the rebels in the city had all been forced back to the west gate, determined to hold it in hopes of reinforcement from the Fu Mountain bandits. Now they would have to fight outnumbered.

The archers on the wall had suffered almost no losses, but one man felt his empty quiver at his waist and said: "Adjutant Geng, our arrows are spent!"

"So are mine."

Geng Yan decisively slung his great bow across his back and drew his blade: "It is dark now — night battle favors short weapons!"

He was the first to leap down from the wall, which was barely two zhang high, and swung his blade at the rebels making a desperate last stand: "Down the wall with me — seize the west gate! Shut the gate, then take our time beating the dogs!"

…

Just as Geng Yan was about to capture all four city gates, Ma Yuan was locked in bitter combat outside the city with the Fu Mountain bandits.

Because the road to Wushi County seat was narrow, Ma Yuan's troops were strung out very long. Only a thousand-odd men had arrived at first, and he had already detached five hundred to Geng Yan.

Ma Yuan could only take the remaining men and hold back the bandits with all his might west of the city.

"Two hundred men to the crossroads to the west — hold the road and make sure our rear column is not cut off."

Ma Yuan himself led the remaining three hundred, fully armored and bearing keen weapons, forming up to meet the bandits head-on.

Forged with the full resources of the entire commandery under Diwu Lun, the Yellow Turban soldiers' equipment was truly impressive. One in three wore armor, and every man had an iron weapon. After all, although the commandery armory's stock was a mixed bag, when fully emptied it was enough to equip several thousand men — for the moment, they were not yet affected by the Fu Mountain bandits cutting off their iron supply.

Yet the Fu Mountain bandits they faced were nothing like the Red Eyebrows' detached force under Chi Zhaoping that Ma Yuan had dealt with before. Many of them also wore armor and helmets, their blades and weapons gleaming — no longer the farm tools and pitchforks bandits were known for. In the initial chaotic clash, the two sides actually traded blows on even terms.

This drew exclamations from the refugee soldiers who had once been Yellow Marsh bandits: "What kind of bandits are these? Their armor and weapons are better than the government troops'!"

It seemed that, unlike the unloved and neglected Yellow Marsh bandits, the Fu Mountain bandits were the elite force backed by the Li family.

Over the past year, the bandits had repeatedly plundered, and Diwu Lun had never interfered, letting them grow accustomed to success and thoroughly arrogant. This swagger meant that, faced with sudden government troops, they felt no fear but instead charged forward with howling battle cries.

This was the first hard fight for the refugee soldiers since they had become a proper army — and it was at night. Fortunately, Diwu Lun had thought ahead and drilled them in night combat at Yecheng; with improved rations, night blindness was not so severe. By the faint glimmers of light from the city wall, they fought a bitter, grinding battle against an unknown number of bandits.

Though the sky was dark, Ma Yuan's mind was not. He had one squad at the front hold back the swarming bandits while the rest slowly formed ranks below the wall. He personally cut down two panicked, fleeing wretches along the way, then had their heads hoisted high on poles.

"This is what happens to anyone who runs wild or turns tail!"

The pressure of military law made the refugee soldiers check their legs' urge to bolt. They drew close together, gripping their spears tightly. Though stray arrows loosed blindly by the bandits kept flying out of the darkness, every man was so tense he kept his lips pressed shut — in that moment, the ranks were eerily silent.

The formation was set. Ma Yuan immediately gave the order for the veterans at the front, who had been blocking the enemy charge with their bodies, armor, and shields, to pull back.

As they withdrew, an accident occurred. Nervous and in the dark, one soldier turned and fled blindly, crashing straight into a spear being leveled. The sharp point stabbed into his arm, and he let out a howl, throwing the new recruits in that squad into even greater panic.

The officer nearby was a branded convict soldier. Without the slightest hesitation, his hand rose and his blade fell — not on the spearhead, but straight through the man's hand!

The new recruits, their faces spattered with blood, were so terrified they dared not speak, yet still had to follow the waist-drum beat and begin stepping slowly forward.

At this moment Ma Yuan set aside reckless personal valor; dismounted, he could play the role of commander well: "Just as in training — form ranks, level your spears, and advance!"

Though only a few hundred strong, they still formed a small square formation: the front several rows held long spears leveled flat, while the dagger-axes and halberds in the rear rows were angled upward.

Thump thump thump, thump thump thump — Diwu Lun had carried on the fine tradition of the Boar-Rush Braves of New Qin, placing a few waist-drum-bearing soldiers among the refugee troops to beat out the rhythm and direct the men's advance.

Half a year of countless drills now paid off; though many faced battle for the first time, they still stepped forward by instinct — collective strength could steel their courage.

They walked faster and faster, and the Fushan bandits charging toward them could see only a dense, layered formation, its front ranks all clad in heavy lamellar armor, their eyes not fierce at all but rather somewhat dull, pressing forward without slowing.

A few bandits, their eyes bloodshot from slaughter, hesitated a moment — then still charged ahead, determined to hack open a bloody path. The big man at their lead first rolled low, used his ring-pommel saber to knock aside two spear shafts, and stepped forward. Just as he was about to slash at the shaft beside him, a long spear thrust straight at his face. He hastily swung his blade across to parry, but another spear stabbed obliquely at his side — it caught on his lamellar armor, thank heaven, thank heaven.

But then a long dagger-axe came chopping down from above; blood sprayed, the bandit collapsed, and was trampled underfoot by the soldiers streaming past.

Similar scenes played out again and again: every bandit who dared a head-on charge was stabbed through with bloody holes by the long spears, their skulls pierced by dagger-axes and halberds, falling dead with shrieks of agony.

The Fushan bandits had meant to exploit the night and charge wildly, scattering the government troops so they could relieve Wushi County town; they never expected to run into such a tough nut.

And as a great mass of torches arrived from the rear, Ma Yuan's rear contingent of a thousand men had struck. At the sight, the Fushan bandits no longer dared to engage; leaving over a hundred corpses behind, they began falling back in droves.

"So bandits are this weak."

"So we are this strong!"

Order triumphs over disorder. The refugee soldiers, who moments before had been somewhat panicked, now felt their hearts settle. Ma Yuan understood their objective; he did not rush to lead them in pursuit into the darkness, but instead directed the square formation to wheel, dispatching a hundred-man company to guard the western flank while the main force advanced on the west gate, where a mass of bandits was packed tight — they could be annihilated.

At that very moment, Geng Yan too was leading his men out from inside the gate, short weapons in hand, charging and slashing outward. The bandits inside and outside the town had already lost heart; pursued, they fled in a panicked rout, only to run headlong into a forest of leveled spears the moment they burst out of the gate. Jammed together, they were skewered and toppled one after another.

In the end, it was they who found themselves caught in a pincer attack from inside and out.

"We surrender! We surrender!"

Unable to endure the merciless slaughter, the hundred-odd bandits who remained could only drop to their knees, throw aside their weapons, and kowtow heavily, begging for nothing but their lives.

Ma Yuan gave the timely order to retract spears and had the prisoners seized for interrogation, while he himself stepped over the corpses and bloodstains carpeting the ground and walked toward the west gate.

As he reached the west gate, a body lying beside the great gate suddenly sprang up — a fierce bandit clutching a sharp blade, howling as he tried to drag Ma Yuan, whose attire marked him plainly as an officer, down to death with him.

Ma Yuan sidestepped with ease and drove his blade into the man's heart, only to discover an arrow already lodged in his back — shot by Geng Yan, the force judged with perfect precision: not so heavy that it burst through the chest and took Ma Yuan out as well.

Even so, Ma Yuan grumbled a complaint: "Were you aiming at him, or at me?"

Geng Yan, his body dotted with blood, paid no heed. He strode quickly to the gate and thrust his blade deep into the ground there as a marker: "I was the first to clear the remaining foes inside the town, seize the four gates, and reach the west gate. Colonel Ma, this time I win."

"Your win is my win — and a win-win for Boyu too." Ma Yuan laughed it off, refusing to quibble, and paid no further mind to this competitive young man. He merely turned his head to gaze at the pitch-black Fushan; the Fukou Road lay at the mountain's foot, stretching westward all the way to the towering Taihang range.

For Ma Yuan, this campaign held one thing even more gratifying than his daughter's pregnancy.

And more interesting than wagering wins and losses with that youngster Geng Yan.

He was full of anticipation: "My brother Junyou — he must be at the other end of this road!"

…

Wan Xiu was indeed on the far side of the Fukou Road, over a hundred li away. With Diwu Lun having smoothed the way, he and the Boar-Rush Braves had already passed through Shangdang without trouble; only She County now lay between them and Ma Yuan.

The guide Bao Yong had assigned them pointed at the small walled town at the end of the narrow road and remarked:

"She County actually had another name in the past — it was called…"

"Sha County!"

…

PS: Sorry for the delay, something came up.

Extra chapters again tomorrow.