Chapter 203: The Fourth Year of Dihuang

"So you're not the Five Towers bandits — you're the Five Pennants bandits?"

Geng Yan was still a bit young, after all. When he suddenly saw four or five thousand roving bandits coming this way to besiege the fortified manor, he assumed the Five Towers crew from Liaocheng had mobilized. Delighted and surprised, he promptly sent word for Diwu Lun to strike Liaocheng at once.

But by dusk, the bandit force had still failed to take the Wei family manor. Seeing that Geng Yan had been hovering on their flank the whole time, and that the infantry under Geng Chun was also about to arrive, they simply abandoned the assault and began withdrawing east.

The ordinary prisoners they had taken earlier spoke some unintelligible Qingzhou dialect and knew nothing when questioned. It was only when Geng Yan personally risked a sudden thrust forward and captured a lagging squad leader for interrogation that he realized with a sinking feeling that something was wrong.

No wonder this mob besieging the Wei manor had seemed a bit dim! According to the squad leader's confession, they were not the Five Towers bandits from Liaocheng at all, but the Five Pennants bandits who had come down from the north at Zhang Wen's invitation. Though the names differed by only one character, they were indeed under two separate chieftains.

"Zhang Wen said this little fortified manor held a great store of grain. He told our unit to attack it, and that he would arrive shortly after."

The Five Pennants bandits were not the only ones taken in — Geng Yan himself had fallen for it. At first he thought Zhang Wen was also playing a diversion, trying to lure the government troops to Liaocheng for an ambush.

Who could have guessed that the scout sent to deliver a message to Diwu Lun would return to report that Ma Yuan, stationed to the east, had long since discovered the Five Towers bandits of Liaocheng slipping away under cover of heavy fog? Without needing Geng Yan's warning, Ma Yuan had already advanced his troops into Liaocheng and by now had planted his banners on the city walls!

"That crafty scoundrel! He'd rather let Ma Wenyuan have the advantage than leave Liaocheng for me."

Geng Yan now understood the reason. Most likely, Zhang Wen had seen that Liaocheng's grain was exhausted, and that Diwu Lun's scorched-earth fortifications left them nothing to plunder. The bandit horde, growing hungrier and harder to endure by the day, had no confidence in a pitched battle. So Zhang Wen had decisively duped the Five Pennants bandits into drawing the attention of Geng Yan and Geng Chun's western army, while he himself hurriedly led the Five Towers bandits out of Liaocheng and fled.

Although Zhang Wen had been forced out by Diwu Lun's strategy, didn't this still mean that he, Geng Yan, had been thoroughly played for a fool?

Geng Yan was quite furious, but he still kept the larger picture in mind. He paid no more heed to the Five Towers bandits, who had already slipped far away, and focused solely on savaging the Five Pennants bandits right in front of him — the ones Zhang Wen had deceived, who were still foolishly retreating toward Liaocheng. Along the road, the Five Pennants bandits tried several times to turn and counterattack, but Geng Yan coolly opened the distance each time, toying with them in the palm of his hand and inflicting grievous losses.

When they neared Liaocheng, instead of seeing the Five Towers bandits coming to their aid, they saw Ma Yuan's banners planted on the city walls. The Five Pennants bandits were instantly thrown into panic. Ma Yuan had already gone off in pursuit of the Five Towers bandits. Diwu Lun arrived with the rear army and, together with Geng Yan and the slightly later-arriving Geng Chun, joined forces from three sides. Near Liaocheng, they virtually annihilated this band of Five Pennants bandits.

The numbers were roughly equal, but it was the strong striking the weak, the ordered striking the disordered. The battle itself was hardly worth describing. It did indeed serve its purpose: steeling the nerves of the Gengshi remnant troops and giving Diwu Lun some practice. And because word had spread that merit in this battle would earn farmland allotments in Shouliang, the refugee soldiers also gave it their utmost.

In the end, the bandits' junior commander fell in battle. Seeing they could not prevail, the rest threw down their weapons and surrendered — over three thousand in all.

"Grand Governor, I am at fault. Please relieve me of my post as military advisor."

With the battle over and the field strewn with corpses, Geng Yan came forward red-faced to admit his error. Though no major disaster had resulted, he had misjudged the enemy situation today. If Diwu Lun dismissed him, he could take the chance to resign and go home. But having promised to win a great victory, only to end on such a blunder, young Geng felt somewhat unwilling to accept it.

Diwu Lun, however, said, "Who failed to foresee the bandits' cunning? Was it only Boxiao? My own fault is even greater."

They had guessed Zhang Wen might run and had made preparations, but they had never imagined he would run in this particular way. This readiness to sell out allies without a second thought was hardly inferior to Diwu Lun's own — no surprise, coming from someone whose banner bore the same character 'Five.'

Geng Chun pointed at the prisoners squatting on the ground, huddling together for warmth with their hands clasped over their heads, and asked, "What should be done with these people?"

He then made a throat-slitting gesture. "After the calamity Shouliang has suffered, even the local refugees are crying out with hunger. Where would we find surplus grain to feed them?"

Diwu Lun was in a bind too. Shouliang lay in ruins and had to rely on transfusions from Wei Commandery, yet Wei Cheng's own grain and resources were also extremely tight. Even if he took this lot to the Wu'an mines to put their remaining energy to use, there would be hardly any provisions to supply them along the way. In the bitter cold of the twelfth month, half of them would likely die. How would that make him any different from the Xin-dynasty officials who press-ganged laborers?

In the end, Diwu Lun decided to enter Liaocheng first, assess the situation, and then make his plans.

On the first day of the twelfth month, which was also the first day of the new calendar year — the fourth year of Dihuang (AD 23) — Diwu Lun, flanked by his soldiers and welcomed by the local gentry and womenfolk, rode in a carriage into this ancient city, first built in the Warring States period.

Guiding him was the man who had fled Liaocheng to seek refuge with him and had been recruited as an Attendant under his office — Lu Da, Lu Zhongkang. He had put his Confucian robes back on. The night before, he had indeed taken up a sword and, in the chaos, killed a lone bandit.

Lu Zhongkang pointed at the devastation that filled the city, his heart aching with fury. "A great city of over ten thousand, a key stronghold between Qing and Ji provinces — now, ravaged by roving bandits, it has become a realm of ghosts."

Most of the city's people had already fled when the roving bandits first entered. Those who had survived these past two or three months were gaunt and emaciated, utterly lacking the prosperous self-assurance of a great city's former residents. Hearing from Lu Zhongkang that the Lord Diwu, who treated the common people with leniency and kindness, had arrived, the Elders — spared death by the bandits on account of their age — came to pay their respects, tears gushing forth like a fountain.

As they recounted the hardships of these days, it all came down to one word: bitter.

"The hamlet this old man lives in originally had over a hundred households. Now barely a dozen remain. The rest were either killed or fled. The bandits moved into the emptied houses, violated the women, and forced the hamlet folk to serve as their slaves and maidservants. Even my own concubine was by those wretches..."

The Liaocheng Elder was full of bitter hatred, but why had Diwu Lun also heard it said that this old man, in order to protect his family at the start, had very eagerly done Zhang Wen's bidding, calling upon each hamlet to supply grain to the roving bandit lords, and had not been sparing with his counsel? And that his concubine had been offered up quite voluntarily?

But the rest of the account was broadly accurate. In the words of Commander Zhen, who had once been a roving bandit himself, the Five Towers bandits were already an armed group with "comparatively good" discipline. Yet they had still ravaged Liaocheng terribly. A rough tally showed the registered population halved, and commerce and handicrafts nearly utterly destroyed.

The local rats had been eliminated, but above the common people's heads now squatted even more bandit lords who observed no rules whatsoever. They no longer had to pay grain taxes to the government offices, but the roving bandits took even more, even sweeping you up in person. For a time, quite a few people in Liaocheng actually began to yearn for the days when the Great Xin government offices still functioned.

Better a dog in times of peace than a man in times of chaos!

The losses were incalculable. The people who had fled would slowly return, but the famine born of burning and plunder would leave a deep and lasting poison. For Liaocheng to recover the prosperity it had before the war, it would likely take a generation or two.

After witnessing the ghastly state of Liaocheng, what little sympathy Diwu Lun had for the roving bandits evaporated. Though he had no intention of carrying out a mass slaughter, he was also unwilling to take responsibility for their lives this winter.

He first had his subordinate clerks screen for natives of Shouliang. Those who could speak the dialects of Liaocheng and the other counties, and who had been forced by circumstance to join the bandits, were allowed to stay. The rest, the outside roving bandits, were regarded as locusts. After being locked up for one night, the famished horde was driven northward by the soldiers.

Ma Yuan, unwilling to give up, had gone off yesterday to pursue the main force of the Five Towers bandits. But this Zhang Wen was truly a talent at running away. He had eaten his fill, wiped his mouth clean, and traveled light, taking only portable silks and discarding all other goods in Liaocheng.

Ma Yuan only managed to catch a few straggling tails, killing a thousand or so. Just then, frost and snow descended from the sky, the weather turned bitterly cold, and after several days of hard marching they were utterly exhausted. He had no choice but to return, disgruntled.

Those of the Five Towers bandits who could still move had already followed Zhang Wen into the neighboring commandery. Those who could not were left behind to die. Some even sat in the snow and kowtowed to the passing government troops, begging for food, completely disregarding the fact that they had been crossing blades with them just days before.

"Just give us a mouthful of food, a piece of clothing to wear — tenant farmers, slaves, we'll do any of it."

Many among them indeed looked very pitiful, but Diwu Lun's heart was like iron. He had this group gathered together and driven to the old course of the Yellow River, which stood elevated above the surrounding plain.

North of Shouliang, the old Yellow River course bent into a great right-angled elbow. After the river had changed its path, it left behind a "long wall" stretching hundreds of li east to west, formed by the two river embankments of the Zhao and Qi states and a low-lying basin full of salt marshes, fish bones, and shells.

This was the only natural boundary north of Shouliang, and the only terrain Diwu Lun could exploit. "Where else could I find such a perfect barrier wall!"

Several thousand refugees were penned in here. Diwu Lun then had the Seventh Biao draw out one-tenth of the able-bodied men — three or four hundred — and execute them on the spot, right there in the river channel!

Fresh blood moistened the parched old course, as if the Yellow River itself had come back to life.

This was to punish them for the crimes they had committed in Liaocheng, Boping, and elsewhere — and also to ensure that the living would spread the tale of Diwu Lun's ruthless side throughout the Hebei rebel armies.

But what was more terrifying than the sight of several hundred men mercilessly speared and stabbed to death by government troops was what Diwu Lun observed: as these several thousand roving bandits watched their comrades die, their faces remained utterly numb, showing not the slightest shock or fear. After being released, the way they stumbled and staggered across the river channel made them look like walking corpses.

If the Han era was a time when people had temporarily secured their place as slaves, then this end of the Xin dynasty was a time when most people longed to be slaves and could not.

How had the world come to such a pass?

Diwu Lun sighed. His heart softened, just a little. He had the soldiers shout to the roving bandits, causing many to turn their heads and gaze blankly up at Diwu Lun, who stood looking down from above.

"Lord Diwu sends you this message: If you are still alive when spring begins, you may return to this place."

"At that time, if you are refugees who have laid down your weapons, who only wish to live in peace once more, and who are willing to become tenant farmers and work the land diligently, then come here to surrender. You will be re-registered as common households, with your rents reduced as circumstances allow."

"But if you remain roving bandits who plague the villages, then it will not be merely one in ten executed. Should you dare cross the river boundary again, your skulls will pave the bed of the old river course!"

The Five Towers chieftain Zhang Wen had long since led his band across the Great River's old course, fleeing into the territory of their homeland, Qinghe Commandery.

What drove them to withdraw was not only the edge of Diwu Lun's blade, but also the hunger and panic of having nowhere left to forage for grain. Roving bandits were like those who drain a pond to catch the fish. Once a place yielded no more food, then whether it was a famous city or a great town, even an imperial palace or the capital itself, it held no further value for the Five Towers bandits.

"Time to move the nest." Zhang Wen looked back. The long column was much shorter than when they had been in Liaocheng. While the men rested, he ordered a headcount.

"How many have we lost?"

"Over a thousand in the past days, killed in raids after the government troops fortified and cleared the countryside. Over two thousand stragglers fell away along the march. Then Colonel Ma's pursuit killed another thousand or so."

The numbers had shrunk by nearly a third, yet Zhang Wen broke into a smile. Compared to the Five Pennants bandits, who had taken the arrow for him and the Five Brigades Army and been completely wiped out, their own losses were minor — not enough to break their bones or sinew.

"Change the place, take another county seat, sweep up the able-bodied, and the numbers are back in the tens of thousands."

Zhang Wen had indeed underestimated Diwu Lun, and now he even secretly regretted not accepting the surrender offer — but there was no turning back. To stay alive, the roving bandits could only keep moving forward.

Qinghe Commandery had already been stripped bare layer by layer by every band of roving bandits passing through, and the competition was fierce — they couldn't stay long. They needed a new direction.

Zhang Wen raised the sword he had seized from the Magistrate of Liaocheng, then with a casual toss, let it decide!

Clang! The sword fell onto the snow. The chieftains crowded around for a look, and all wailed in despair: "The sword tip is pointing south again!"

Last time they cast it south, they'd blundered into Shouliang, taken Liaocheng, but before they'd enjoyed more than a few good days, they ran straight into Diwu Lun. The roving bandits were trying to stay alive, not seeking death — why insist on butting heads with iron?

The men looked at one another, then turned to Zhang Wen, waiting for him to make a decision. If he stubbornly insisted on fighting Diwu Lun to the death, then they would have no choice but to let Chieftain Zhang down — the group could always change its leader.

Zhang Wen, quick-witted enough, saw their misgivings and understood their thoughts. He laughed heartily and said: "What I cast this time was the direction of the hilt!"

"North." His thumb deliberately pointed northwest. "Move out — to Julu Commandery!"

……

The roving bandits abandoned several thousand corpses and left behind over ten thousand local souls they had killed directly or indirectly, halving the registered households of Liaocheng and the other counties, then brushed off their backsides and left. Diwu Lun, however, had to rebuild order upon this wreckage.

The retainers who had come to serve under him after he arrived in Shouliang were appointed as officials one after another. Even Huang Chang received an appointment — Diwu Lun wanted to make him Magistrate of Liaocheng, but Huang Chang politely declined, even saying he was willing to serve as Diwu Lun's retainer for ten years, without pay if need be.

"Menggao would rather be a three-hundred-bushel man than a lord of a hundred li," Diwu Lun said, pointing at him with a laugh. Huang Chang understood perfectly well that the measure of power was never rank or salary, but proximity to one's lord.

And so, in the early days of this fourth year of Dihuang, just as Diwu Lun had annihilated the Five Banners and driven off the Five Towers and Five Schools, his name shaking the He-Ji region, two letters pleading for aid arrived before him, one after the other.

One was from his neighbor to the north — Gu Gong, the Company Commandant of Pinghe (Qinghe), had sent a man with an urgent appeal.

Huang Chang read aloud: "Gu Gong says that within Pinghe Commandery there are three or four roving bands — the Five Schools, the Green Calves, the Great Spear — numbering in the tens of thousands. Company Commandant Gu has been besieged in the commandery office for over a month. The court can send no army to suppress them, and the Governor of Ji Province is helpless. He has no choice but to seek aid from the Grand Governor."

To this urgent plea, Diwu Lun merely sipped his hot congee, watching the snow drift down in great flakes outside, and said slowly: "The way things stand now, each man sweeps the snow from his own doorstep and pays no heed to the frost on another's roof tiles. Holding the roving bandits at the old course of the Great River is enough. My forces will absolutely not cross the border to attack on their own initiative."

Ma Yuan and the others had already pushed their defensive zone forward to the old course, striking down any who came, but with these several counties of Shouliang Commandery still far from recovered, a hasty outward expansion offered them no benefit whatsoever — it would only saddle them with more messes.

Everyone found this deeply reasonable, and Geng Chun in particular strongly agreed with Diwu Lun's line about "each man sweeps the snow from his own doorstep."

But soon, when the second letter arrived, Geng Chun could no longer smile.

"The Red Eyebrows of Mount Liang have struck Dingtao. The city is on the verge of collapse. Grand Preceptor Wang Kuang, holding Luoyang, fears the Red Eyebrows like tigers and refuses to march east out of Chenggao to relieve them, while Grand Chancellor Wang Xun's troops are still being conscripted and cannot leave the pass until spring…"

Though he had anticipated it, this day had come nonetheless.

Geng Chun was rarely so flustered. He bowed deeply to Diwu Lun: "Dingtao's defenses will likely not hold until spring. The Red Eyebrows have always hated high provincial officials most of all — when they capture one, they kill him at once. My father is at his wits' end. Looking across a thousand li, only the Wei troops have the strength to fight. That is why he has sought aid from us!"

He could not articulate a reason why Jiping must be saved, but he still hoped Diwu Lun would agree.

Geng Boshan was now neither anyone's subordinate nor anyone's friend. He had only one identity: a son whose sole desire was to save his father's life!

He bowed again to Diwu Lun: "I wish to borrow troops!"

……

PS: Tomorrow's updates will be at 13:00 and 18:00.