Chapter 426: Even Fifty Thousand Pigs

Wu Han was an advanced element among the rebel forces, bringing several thousand cavalry plus an entire commandery to pledge allegiance, earning himself a noble title in one stroke.

But Li Zhong, the former Chancellor of Northern Han and Governor of Xindu, could only count as "surrendering."

Back at the battle of Xindu, Li Zhong had remained unmoved even when Pi Tong entered the city and pleaded with him bitterly; only when Ma Yuan used the "eye-gouging" stratagem to leave Li Zhong with no way out and no retreat did he have no choice but to declare his allegiance to Wei.

Such a man naturally received vastly different policies and treatment from Wu Han, whom the King of Wei held in high regard — he was granted an earldom merely as a horse-bone token, with military command utterly out of the question, and they did not even trust him to remain in Xindu. Diwu Lun found an excuse to transfer Li Zhong to his side, as an advisor.

Whenever Li Zhong recalled the Xindu affair he felt ashamed, seeing himself as "Li the Disloyal," tainted. Having originally resolved to die a martyr, after entering the Wei camp he never spoke a word unless the King of Wei thought to question him.

Until, on the eve of the great battle, after Diwu Lun had finished the war council, for some reason he suddenly remembered and summoned Li Zhong with a question: "Zhongdu, you have met Wang Lang many times — what sort of man is he?"

Although Diwu Lun had had people show Li Zhong ample proof that Liu Ziyu was in fact the Handan diviner Wang Lang in disguise, Li Zhong still could not fully believe it in his heart, simply because the impression Liu Ziyu had left on him was too deep.

So Li Zhong, ignoring Geng Chun across from him secretly signaling with his eyes, actually said straight out: "He can be counted a hero of his time."

Such a high appraisal — Diwu Lun was rather surprised. "Why?"

Li Zhong answered truthfully: "Brilliant and outstanding is called ying; courage and strength surpassing others is called xiong. In both of these, Liu... Wang Lang qualifies."

And if this identity was truly false, did that not make Wang Lang's audacity all the more extraordinary?

Diwu Lun did not take it seriously. In his heart, of course, "the heroes under heaven are only Lord Xiu and myself."

Compared to the two of them, those heaven-defying freaks, Liu Ziyu had merely relied on deceit to luck into a moment of success — if he counted as a hero, then wouldn't the pyramid-scheme operators of later ages all be heroes on average?

Geng Chun, perceiving the King of Wei's displeasure, said: "Zhongdu misjudges men! In my view, that Wang Lang, when he was a diviner, was at best of Li Shaojun's ilk, deceiving the world with words and esoteric arts — bold, yes, and clever enough, but all petty tricks."

Only a fool like his maternal uncle Liu Yang would fall for Liu Ziyu's con!

"After Wang Lang merged with the Copper Horses and was no longer a puppet, this past year he has shown no ability in governing the realm or commanding armies; on the contrary, he has only made the commanderies and kingdoms ever more chaotic. Even if Wang Lang had possessed the talent of a mediocre sovereign, with several hundred thousand Copper Horses under him, even if his ministers were merely middling aides, chaotic as Hebei was, he could not have been driven into a dead end by Your Majesty within a matter of months."

Li Zhong could not help retorting: "Even if Ziying had the will to resist the armies of the Six Kingdoms, he lacked the power to turn the tide — the circumstances dictated it. The King of Wei's eastern campaign is like Qin sweeping through the six states; even if the Cheng Emperor were reborn, the realm could not be held, let alone a false Ziyu?"

It seemed like flattery of Diwu Lun, but the implicit meaning was: had Liu Ziyu been given a year or half a year to consolidate Hebei, the war would not have gone so smoothly.

But in an age of great contention, who would allow you the patience to develop in peace? Last year, when Diwu Lun had not yet secured his footing in Guanzhong, had Liu Bosheng and the Wei clan given him any time?

Still, there was no need to belittle Wang Lang one-sidedly either — if the opponent truly was a weakling, then your King of Wei's victory would be discounted too! In the history books to come, this man must still be given a place.

"Enough." Diwu Lun bade the two cease their debate and gave his conclusion: "I asked you about Wang Lang's character because I wish to know: in the present circumstances, given his temperament, how will he choose?"

Gauging the enemy and foreseeing the moment lies in the mind's subtle discernment — one must weigh not only the numbers of friend and foe, arms and armor, the favor of heaven, earth, and men, but also study the sovereign's very nature.

Would Wang Lang sit and wait for death at Xiaquyang, break through and flee, or harbor a gambler's hope, summon his courage, and fight a decisive battle against Diwu Lun?

"He will likely fight to the death." Li Zhong still believed that Liu Ziyu had the courage of a heroic sovereign.

Diwu Lun said: "You mean that, at this point, he would rather shatter like jade than survive as a broken tile?"

Geng Chun, however, laughed: "Wang Lang was a broken tile to begin with, only fancying himself jade. Your Majesty, your servant wagers he will run."

The words had barely landed when the outcome arrived. The Embroidered Uniform Commandant Zhang Yu hurried in to report: "Your Majesty, Chancellor of the Left, scouts and the Yuyang raiders have all spotted Copper Horse troops mobilizing outside Xiaquyang city, numbering perhaps in the tens of thousands. The false emperor's flame banner is among them, moving eastward!"

Several dozen li to the east was Ma Yuan's army, slowly closing in from the west.

Geng Chun clapped his hands and laughed: "What did I say?"

"A tile, after all, is a tile. He must be planning to smash through Ma the Cavalry General, then flee east to link up with Cheng Tou Zilu."

Li Zhong hung his head and said nothing. Had he misjudged?

Diwu Lun, knowing of the "misunderstanding" between Zhang Yu and Wu Han, dispatched a different Embroidered Uniform messenger to convey the order: "Go tell Wu Han to take the Youzhou raiders and pursue, nipping at their heels, but do not close in too near. Only when the main forces are engaged should he seize the moment to charge their formation."

But Diwu Lun did not rush to order the whole army to swarm in pursuit. He only appointed Geng Chun: "Boshan, take two divisions and advance eastward. Strive to coordinate with Wenyuan in a pincer attack from east and west, and annihilate the enemy in the field."

"Dispatch one more division to keep watch on Xiaquyang city, guarding against any Copper Horse troops still hidden inside attempting a ruse."

"I myself will lead one division as the rear guard."

Diwu Lun had taken Li Zhong's words to heart after all; against Wang Lang, the greatest variable, he had to stay on guard.

Diwu Lun rose abruptly: "But whether Wang Lang is jade or tile, even if he is wrapped in a layer of 'copper' horses, when he meets my iron army, he will be smashed to pieces!"

The Wei army, praised by Diwu Lun as an "iron army," was famed for its skill at standing firm — the King of Wei euphemistically called it "positional warfare."

They liked to rely on terrain, fight the enemy in head-on pitched battles or wars of attrition, and then use their relatively complete logistics to wear the opponent down.

Every major battle since the founding of the state — the battle of Tongyuan, the battle of the Wei River, the battle of Zhouyuan, and so on — had been fought this way.

But the Red Eyebrows, the Copper Horses, and such roving bandits were the opposite: what they excelled at was large-scale mobile warfare, threading back and forth across several commanderies and provinces, seeking opportunities in movement, watching for a chance to break through.

In the preceding months, after falling under Liu Ziyu, the Copper Horses had changed from roving bandits to entrenched bandits, their mentality shifting. Coupled with the constraints of weather and terrain, the Copper Horses had abandoned their own strengths and foolishly let the King of Wei lead them by the nose, confronting him in a war of attrition — suffering heavy losses and fighting in stifled frustration.

Only today, having resolved to abandon Hebei, did Dongshan Huangtu finally recover the unrestrained joy of ranging across the lands of You and Ji. Taking the greater part of the Copper Horse troops from Xiaquyang, under cover of a foggy day, he raised many banners to churn up dust and smoke and began breaking out eastward.

By Dongshan Huangtu's estimate, the Wei army's numbers were in fact not much greater than theirs, so this "encirclement" actually had many gaping holes.

Since it was a breakout, there was no need to bunch together; they split directly into over a dozen columns, each scattering on its own, each column of two to three thousand men, dispersing in retreat toward the vast plains to the east.

Ma Yuan's eastern-route army had only twenty thousand regulars. If they concentrated to block them, Liu Ziyu might slip away; if they split up to pursue, the Copper Horses might suddenly wheel around and counterattack.

There is a joke: "Even fifty thousand pigs couldn't all be caught in three days." This jest never goes out of fashion in any era. In the late Xin period, the hundred thousand and three hundred thousand Xin troops at Chengchang and Kunyang were worse than pigs, collapsing and surrendering in whole formations — gone in less than three days.

But now the Copper Horses had simply lain flat to the utmost, giving full play to their roving-bandit nature, directly treating men who only wanted to flee and had no will to fight as tens of thousands of pigs!

Go on, catch them! Let's see how many days it takes you to catch them all!

Even with the Yuyang cavalry patrolling around Xiaquyang, they numbered only three or four thousand riders, half of whom had lost their horses during the thousand-li raid and could only serve as infantry.

Long-distance exertion is a tremendous test of endurance for both men and horses. The Yuyang cavalry, though fierce, after over ten days of ceaseless movement were so exhausted that their hands could no longer grip the reins and they had to use cloth strips to lash the reins to their shoulders just to steer their mounts. Many men and horses were gaunt and haggard, nearly like beggars — fortunate to have resupplied once from the King of Wei's baggage train at Songzi.

It was only a pity they had chosen the wrong direction. Ma Wenyuan was, among the stand-firm divisions of Great Wei, the commander most adept at mobile warfare — one of them.

Seeing this clumsy ploy, Ma Yuan could not help sneering: "Do the Copper Horses take me for a fool as dull-witted as the mediocre generals of Xin, incapable of adapting?"

By Wei army organization, ten thousand men made a division, one division comprised five brigades, each commanded by a colonel. Ma Yuan deployed one division, ordering the five brigade colonels to each intercept the enemy's scattered troops, but to maintain formation and not pursue recklessly, keeping mutual support positions so they could reinforce one another at any moment.

"Have the one division of Xindu and Qinghe militia at the army's rear also construct barricades to block them — stop as many as can be stopped."

And Ma Yuan himself led one division, maintaining battle formation amid the chaotic stampede of ten thousand pigs, standing firm as a mountain.

This left Dongshan Huangtu, who had been bringing up twenty thousand main troops in the rear, planning to charge and smash through the moment Ma Yuan fell for the ruse and scattered his forces to fight separately, with no opening to strike. He too could only order his subordinate canal commanders to scatter and flee on their own.

Gathering and scattering — this was the daily routine of roving bandits. Before leaving, Dongshan Huangtu also told the canal commanders: "If you survive this ordeal, once the weather warms, reassemble outside Bohai Commandery city, beneath that old crooked locust tree!"

Today was already the thirtieth of the twelfth month; tomorrow would be the new year.

The various camps that scattered and departed each took a wagon with them, flying the Yan Han banner from the cart. Only Dongshan Huangtu's force carried nothing at all — just a bannerless cart — and they slipped deftly through the Wei army's encirclement and pursuit.

But this was the great plain, after all. When the side with more men truly wants to scatter and flee, can you really stop them?

They ran without pause until the sky was darkening. By then, Dongshan Huangtu had only two thousand men left under his command; the rest had scattered to who knows where.

They had reached an abandoned stretch of farmland, with a village hamlet right beside it. No Wei troops had appeared anywhere nearby. Dongshan Huangtu judged it safe enough, and let his men enter the hamlet to rest a while. He himself walked to the bannerless covered cart, knelt, and paid his respects.

"Empress, Crown Prince — we have broken through!"

The cart's cover was lifted, and the person inside showed her face: a young woman dressed as a commoner, stove ash smeared on her face, and beside her a little boy of only seven or eight.

The woman was Liu Ziyu's Empress, niece of the King of Zhending, Geng Chun's younger cousin — Guo Shengtong.

The boy was the son of the King of Zhending, Liu De, whom Liu Ziyu had named Crown Prince.

Liu Ziyu had actually sent out only the Empress and the Crown Prince. He himself was not among the fleeing Tongma host!

Now, Liu Ziyu had spent a day summoning the Tongma chieftains: those determined to leave were assigned to Dongshan Huangtu's force; those fiercely loyal to him and willing to fight a rearguard action to the death were placed under Liu Zhi. In the end, the former numbered sixty thousand, the latter ten thousand...

But then Liu Ziyu suddenly announced: "The King of Bohai shall take the Empress and Crown Prince and depart. We shall remain, and personally hold the rear for you all!"

"If death comes whether we flee or fight, We would rather die for the realm!"

The moment those words were spoken, the number willing to stay and share life and death with their Emperor instantly swelled to over twenty thousand...

That was how Dongshan Huangtu came to lead fifty thousand men.

Guo Shengtong looked around her. The hamlet was ruined, raided by who knew how many bands of marauding soldiers. Corpses frozen solid in the ice and snow still lay collapsed in the village lanes — a ghastly sight.

She had never seen anything like it. Her heart filled with dread. She barely had time to ask a single question: "King of Bohai, His Majesty..."

"His Majesty is still at Xiaquyang." Dongshan Huangtu spoke with tears in his eyes. He had never imagined His Majesty the Emperor would show such towering righteousness. But Dongshan Huangtu was not a diehard loyalist like Liu Zhi or Zhang Wen. The only effect this act had on him was to make him agree to guard the Empress and Crown Prince well, and leave a seed for the Great Han.

Liu Ziyu's original intent, of course, had been for Dongshan Huangtu and the others who were set on leaving to help draw off the main Han force — especially the cavalry! — so that he could achieve his "king versus king" decisive battle with Diwu Lun, and hope for a miracle. But in Dongshan Huangtu's view, breaking straight out was still the easier way to escape. The Emperor had given him a path to live.

Yet they would not need to worry about Liu Ziyu for long. Before Dongshan Huangtu could answer, a rumbling thunder of hoofbeats rose in the distance!

The Yuyang shock cavalry had caught up after all!

Although the King of Wei had ordered the "independent division" to charge only once the main forces were engaged, plans could not keep pace with events. Who could have foreseen that the Tongma would simply break into scattered pieces and flee? They could only split into several squads to "catch the pigs." Despite the long pursuit and continuous clashes that had left both men and horses nearly dead from exhaustion, under Wu Han's command they still mustered the last shreds of their strength — some mounted, some now on foot — and attacked this band of Tongma troops.

Wu Han lay flat against his horse. The Nanyang man was cursing furiously: "In half a day I've smashed three Tongma units in a row. Every cart flies the Han banner, but none of them holds Liu Ziyu. This old man won't believe it!"

"If every cart with a banner is a decoy, then maybe this one without a banner is the real one!"

PS: Tomorrow's updates will still be at 18:00 and 23:00.