Chapter 271: Fighting with Fists

"Lun is young and strong, like the sun at its zenith — I will not take advantage of the aged Marquis of Scorching Hot Water!"

Diwu Lun, who normally has no martial ethics whatsoever and sneak-attacked old Wang Mang, now that Tian Kuang has challenged him to single combat, is suddenly full of talk about "no glory in beating the weak," describing Tian Kuang — barely in his forties — as a decrepit old man.

Not only did the opposing camp, having been instructed by Tian Kuang, erupt in deliberate jeers, but even within his own ranks, some colonels harbored doubts and questioned Assistant General Wan Xiu, who commanded the front line.

"General, you have known Lord Diwu the longest — how is his martial prowess?"

The implication was clear: "Is Lord Diwu perhaps afraid?"

This put Wan Xiu in a difficult spot. He had nearly come to blows with Diwu Lun once, but all he remembered was riding up, clasping his fist in greeting — and Diwu Boyu, with a start, dodging around the carriage and fleeing…

But to steady the troops' morale, even an honest man had to lie. Wan Xiu coughed once and said to the colonels and majors under his command: "Do you all know the story of how our lord 'bent the strong bow with his righteousness'?"

They certainly knew that one — it was one of Diwu Lun's more celebrated exploits — but now, from Wan Xiu's mouth, the story gained an extra version.

"That day, our lord not only bent my bow with his righteousness — he could do it with sheer strength too! When a misunderstanding arose between me and our lord, though he was bare-handed, he showed not the slightest fear. Instead, he smashed the carriage rail with one punch, frightening my horse into a panic so that it bolted around the carriage. Our lord then held back his fist and helped me rein in the startled horse. I was convinced, heart and soul, and so I bent my bow."

Wan Xiu had once been a gallant, but his goal was to become a Confucian gallant. The idol he admired most in life was Zilu, the disciple of Confucius. He had heard that Zilu, too, was fond of courage and martial force, wearing a hat shaped like a rooster's comb and adorning himself with boar tusks, delighting in valor and combat, and even seeking to affront Confucius.

Although the Confucian scholars all said that Confucius set forth ritual to gradually entice Zilu, whereupon Zilu donned Confucian robes, offered gifts of allegiance, and begged to become a disciple — Wan Xiu preferred to believe that gallants like themselves do not submit easily. He would rather believe that it was the nine-foot-tall Confucius who personally "persuaded" Zilu.

Now he had fitted this story onto his own first meeting with Diwu Lun. Wan Xiu was a gentleman and generally disliked using force, but when he first took command of troops, he had personally dealt with a few unruly subordinates. Now those very men had become his most formidable colonels and majors — and had been brought right here.

"General Wan, why is your face so red?"

"The weather is sweltering, and thinking of the past stirs my heart and spirit — and now a great battle is imminent… Why are you lot still here?" Wan Xiu cut off the story, hardened his expression, and hurried them off to prepare for battle. They had been placed at the front of the main formation and would likely be the first to engage the enemy.

The men acknowledged the order and departed, but Wan Xiu sank into thought. Zilu had been won over by Confucius's ritual; the reason he himself had given his heart to Diwu Lun was likely what happened in New Qinzhong — Diwu Lun not only "executed Heaven's justice," but when the Xiongnu invaded and everyone else barred their gates, he resolutely led his troops across the river to strike the invaders!

Since then, however, Diwu Lun had rarely charged into the fray himself, and his martial prowess had become an enigma. The men took it as truth — smashing a carriage rail with one punch? They had heard Diwu Ba could do that; surely his grandson could too?

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This did not stop Wan Xiu from regarding Diwu Lun as his enlightened lord, for he had seen how, under Diwu Lun's governance, New Qinzhong was utterly peaceful and Wei Commandery alone survived the chaos. Wan Xiu believed that Diwu Lun could likewise bring Guanzhong, and the whole realm, a brand-new peace!

Speaking of which, Tian Kuang truly had a profusion of cheap tricks for boosting morale. When one scheme failed, he tried another. Over the past two days, every evening, soldiers had streamed in endlessly from east of the Dragon Head Canal to join his army, while word was spread: "Grand Chancellor Wang's reinforcements have arrived from Hedong!"

Wave after wave came, and judging by appearances alone, the "reinforcements" numbered well over ten thousand.

Had he not known the Xin army's nature, Diwu Lun might almost have believed it. He had long since sent outriders to scout the area between the Dragon Head Canal's east side and Puban Pass on the Yellow River, and they had discovered that ever since Wang Xun entered Hedong several days ago, he had been busy securing counties and villages and fortifying the river defenses — looking for all the world like he meant to settle in Hedong permanently, and could not be bothered with Tian Kuang's fate.

The officers therefore all concluded that the camp by the Dragon Head Canal was a decoy. The Seventh Biao were eager for action, rubbing their fists and begging to charge it once and expose Tian Kuang's bluff.

Yet when they charged in, they discovered there really was an ambush force lying in wait. The two sides clashed for a time, and the Seventh Biao withdrew in frustration, having gained no advantage.

Tian Kuang also exploited his control of the boats on the Wei Canal, sending a batch of vessels — heavily laden, though no one knew if they actually carried men — upstream against the Wei River, deliberately passing south of Linjin, claiming they were going to attack Chang'an, hoping to trick Diwu Lun into turning back.

But Tian Kuang had overestimated Chang'an's value in Diwu Lun's strategy. Diwu Lun did not budge. Those boats, not daring to venture deeper, soon slunk back in retreat. One or two were captured, and they were found to be loaded with rocks.

After a day of this standoff, even Diwu Lun could not help but praise him: "Make the false seem real, and the real seem false — Tian Kuang truly is a master of commanding troops. No wonder he routed Peng Botong so thoroughly."

This was also what Diwu Lun could never understand: the man was a military genius, so why was he so politically naive? At this late hour, he still flew the banner of the Great Xin. Many of the powerful families under him had already fled — even switching to a Han banner would have been better than this.

But on second thought, it made sense: "Some men are great commanders of armies but naive in politics — wasn't the Marquis of Huaiyin, Han Xin, the same?"

When it came to these dirty tricks, Tian Kuang was a match for Diwu Lun. He spared no effort in shaking the enemy's morale and shoring up his own. But after several days of back-and-forth, what ultimately dealt Tian Kuang's psyche a fatal blow were the rafts drifting down the Dragon Head Canal.

The Dragon Head Canal lay on the right flank of Tian Kuang's army. That day, men came poling rafts downstream. As they drew near, the boatmen slipped into the water and swam away, leaving the rafts to drift ashore — and on them were piles of corpses, heaped to the brim.

Diwu Lun had his men shout: "Tian Kuang's suicide soldiers, hidden in the Dragon Head Canal, have been discovered by the Grand General and annihilated to the last man!"

"You have no reinforcements left — you are surrounded by our hundred-thousand-strong army!"

A tremor of unease ran through Tian Kuang's army. Even Tian Kuang himself was stricken with anguish and lamented: "I have brought ruin upon these brave men."

The suicide soldiers in the Dragon Head Canal had been built around the core veterans from his days in Qing Province. They had been Tian Kuang's last hope of turning the tables against superior numbers — and now Diwu Lun had personally snuffed out that flame.

Diwu Lun struck while the iron was hot. With the enemy's morale at a low ebb, he began advancing his formations.

Diwu Lun was to the north with over twenty thousand men; Tian Kuang was to the south with only seven or eight thousand, deployed between the Dragon Head Canal and the Luo River. Dust churned into the air, blotting out the sky.

War drums and horns sounded without cease. The clouds above seemed scattered by the killing intent of these tens of thousands of men. The day was exceptionally clear, and by all appearances, there would be neither meteorites nor violent storms.

Diwu Lun had witnessed far grander battlefields: at the Battle of Shouliang, he had faced tens of thousands of Red Eyebrows with just over ten thousand men — that was truly an overwhelming tide. Today, he outnumbered his foe, yet he showed Tian Kuang not the slightest contempt.

Tian Kuang, meanwhile, studied the eastern edge of Diwu Lun's formation, where a section jutted slightly toward his own side: "The world says Diwu Lun is skilled at commanding troops — but that is not so."

"His formation is not as orderly as ours. It must be because his tens of thousands of soldiers have trained for barely a month before rushing into rebellion. Now they can probably just about hold formation, but they may not even be fully familiar with the banners, gongs, and drums."

"Moreover, with the Dragon Head Canal to the east and Mount Shangyan to the rear, he has transferred the Yue Cavalry Camp here. As the saying goes: with water on left and right, a great mound ahead, and a high mountain behind — when three armies fight between two bodies of water and the enemy occupies both the outer and inner ground, this is dire terrain for cavalry. Diwu Lun has trapped his own horsemen in dire terrain."

It could also be a trap, but this unit — caught between advance and retreat, its morale low — was simply too tempting. Tian Kuang swept his gaze back and forth across the left, center, and right wings of Diwu Lun's great army, and in the end decided: "Strike the Yue Cavalry Camp first!"

…

Diwu Lun was also observing Tian Kuang. Though the troops under Tian Kuang's command were the commandery militia he had personally trained over two years — drilled every agricultural off-season, with slightly better order — their morale was low and flagging because Tian Kuang stubbornly clung to the Xin Dynasty's banner. And with the suicide ambush force in the Dragon Head Canal gone, their confidence in the battle had fallen past the breaking point. Were it not for Tian Kuang leading them, they would likely have scattered in a rout already.

Diwu Lun's situation was the exact opposite: his order was ragged, but his morale was high. His army was indeed, as Tian Kuang had mocked, a bit of a mess. The soldiers had been taken in hand and immediately rebelled; after rebelling, they had to be dispatched to various places, then concentrated here — they were all on the road the whole time, with no chance to drill them at all. He could only use battle itself as training.

But after all, these soldiers of humble origin had followed Diwu Lun in forcing the crossing of the Ba River and capturing the capital in one stroke, and had been rewarded with silk, cloth, and gold cakes. So every man's fighting spirit blazed, and they had a blind, unshakable confidence in their own side.

There was one exception: the Yue Cavalry Camp, which Diwu Lun had singled out and placed on the eastern flank near the canal. They were the batch most lacking in fighting spirit. Even though Diwu Lun had promised them rewards for merit, these surrendered troops of the Northern Army remained listless and slack.

It was only when the drumbeats of both sides struck up and they began slowly advancing that they discovered Tian Kuang had detached a flanking force of over three thousand men, moving swiftly along the canal's edge straight toward them!

Tian Kuang's attack was meticulously sequenced. The small square formations in the first line surged forward — first at a jog, then picking up speed with the drums and banners. The second line, the third, and so on followed close behind, surging toward the Yue Cavalry Camp like a tide.

The Yue Cavalry Camp was not entirely cavalry — they had barely a thousand horses, the other two thousand being infantry. Seeing this situation, Cheng Zhong immediately hesitated: should they charge forward and let the Yue Cavalry Camp prove itself, or should they temporarily evade the enemy's edge and preserve their strength?

It must be understood that the Northern Army's four cavalry camps each had their own character: the Garrison Cavalry were heavy cavalry, well-equipped with armor, favoring shock charges; the Hu Cavalry and Changshui were light cavalry, mostly manned by Qiang and Hu auxiliaries from Longyou, favoring mounted archery.

The Yue Cavalry Camp alone excelled at none of these. Their specialty was pursuing defeated armies, cutting supply lines, and raiding light skirmishers. To demand they meet the enemy in a head-on clash was indeed asking too much.

Difficult as it was, Cheng Zhong still issued the order to prepare for battle. Yet the order was given and the soldiers refused to mount their horses. It was not that they were reviving the tradition of demanding rewards on the spot — rather, their faces showed reluctance; they had no wish to charge into the fray.

"Colonel, the ground is narrow — on either side there's either a ditch or friendly troops. There's no room to spread out and maneuver. Cavalry have no place to show their worth here. Let's do as we always do and let the friendly troops take the front!"

The soldiers refused to risk their lives, and the colonel's eagerness for merit was useless. Cheng Zhong was frantic with anxiety, but he had not yet requested battle from Diwu Lun. He could only fix his eyes anxiously on the great banner of the main formation — if Diwu Lun ordered him to attack, he would have no choice but to execute a few dozen men.

Diwu Lun's central army main formation, where he commanded in person, was all yellow robes, yellow plumes, yellow armor, and yellow-feathered standards — gleaming like gold when seen from afar, so that every formation to the left, right, front, and rear could identify it. At this moment, the banners merely waved — signaling the Yue Cavalry Camp to fall back!

Cheng Zhong rubbed his eyes several times to make sure he had not misread. It was indeed an order for them to retreat!

The enemy's battle cries were drawing closer and closer. Cheng Zhong issued the command. The Yue Cavalry Camp soldiers, who moments before had been slouching lazily against their horses, were overjoyed at the news. This, they were good at. Instantly they swung into their saddles. The infantry fell back, while the cavalry splashed across the ditches and streams into the farmland to the east. Cheng Zhong still wanted to make an effort — he would lead them around to strike Tian Kuang's rear. They could not afford to make this battle look too ugly.

Diwu Lun had sent word in advance to the commanders of every other formation: "When battle begins, the Yue Cavalry Camp will feign retreat to draw the enemy in — do not be alarmed."

Smoke and dust shrouded the battlefield; ordinary soldiers could not see what was happening over there. The commanders assumed it was all part of the general's plan and felt no fear. And as Diwu Lun's banners signaling the western formations also began to wave, on the other side of the battlefield, the Seventh Biao — who had been bottling up their energy for ages — led several thousand men composed of Diwu Lun's clan and hometown comrades into motion.

Diba Biao, now one of the more senior men in the clan, had been drumming it into everyone nonstop: "The suzerain says, once we take Hexi, he'll declare himself king!"

"Once he's a king, proclaiming himself emperor is only a matter of time. When that day comes, we'll be imperial kinsmen by marriage, men above other men! Think they'll stint on rewards and honors then?"

Brother Biao was more fired up about this than Diwu Lun himself. Before the battle, he rallied the men: "That's why this fight — we have to win it!"

They were the formation with the highest loyalty to Diwu Lun, the most soaring morale — and also the most prone to charge headlong. The moment they saw Diwu Lun's banner wave, Diba Biao, who had been holding himself back for ages, attacked at once, hurling his men at the enemy's relatively thin left wing!

And as if arranged beforehand, just as Diba Biao's force was about to close with the enemy, Tian Kuang's left wing actually pulled back swiftly — copying the exact same move the Yue Cavalry camp had used.

"Diwu Lun has fallen for it."

Tian Kuang, watching this from the center, felt his clenched heart ease a little.

"For this battle, our army is using the tactic of Chengpu."

"Strike their right wing first, make the Yue Cavalry camp panic and scatter."

"And this may also be Diwu Lun's own ploy — he wants to lure our best troops into hitting the Yue Cavalry camp so he can press in from the west. Better to turn his trick to our own use. I set two banners on the western side, one for the general and one for the deputy, and order both banners to pull back, luring Diwu Lun's western wing into pursuit, stretching his left and right battle lines so they can't support each other. My right division blocks Diwu Lun's center from sending reinforcements, while my main central force seizes the chance to slice across and cut off his western wing of several thousand men. That way, we can at least shatter one of his formations!"

Their numbers were small, but their advantage lay in pitting order against disorder. Behind the left wing was the Luo River — no path of retreat there, so they wouldn't rout and flee for a thousand li the moment they fell back.

Up to this point, events were still following the script of the Battle of Chengpu. But Diwu Lun was no Cheng Ziyu. Just as Tian Kuang personally led the great central formation wheeling toward Diba Biao's array, attempting to cut it in two — Diwu Lun, on the opposite side, seized the drum mallet and slammed out the signal for general assault!

Wan Xiu, who had been waiting in taut silence, raised his sword and roared: "Our army forward! One drumbeat, one surge of spirit!"

His men couldn't execute overly complex tactical maneuvers. Wan Xiu simply divided the force into large blocks of a thousand men each, ten blocks in all, and now sent them out one after another.

He had made every Colonel and Major drum it into their ears: the soldiers, most with little battle experience, were to advance at a normal marching pace, weapons in hand, conserving their strength, and only when they were a hundred paces from the enemy were they to charge with a war cry.

But not everyone listened. These raw recruits, morale blazing high, the moment they stepped out, their legs were beyond reining in, and they walked faster and faster. Don't expect them to keep any order once they charge out. Don't expect them to stop and dress their ranks. If the rear didn't follow up instantly, front and rear would lose contact. And once the fighting started, it was absolutely guaranteed: Colonels wouldn't be able to find their soldiers, and soldiers wouldn't be able to find their Colonels.

For a moment, it was like ten thousand pigs bursting from their pen — the complete opposite of the disciplined advance and retreat on Tian Kuang's side!

If not for the yellow cloth wrapped around their heads, and their eyebrows still being black, Tian Kuang might well have thought the force coming at him was the Red Eyebrows bandits!

This was Diwu Lun's last resort. A battle doesn't unfold the way you wish it would.

There was no time to drill the troops, yet the fight couldn't be avoided. When you can't outplay the enemy in order and finesse, what else can you rely on but numbers and morale — just bulling through in one wild rush? This is called...

"A flurry of wild punches beats the old master to death!"

PS: Ahem, I've lost face — the chapter's not quite big enough.

Will keep making up the owed chapters tomorrow.