Chapter 489: Declaration of War!

"What? The river burst near the battlefield?"

Diwu Lun, leading the troops from Henei and Wei Commandery, had just pursued them east of Yuancheng when this shocking news reached him.

After all, he had spent several years in close contact with the Yellow River in New Qinzhong and Wei Commandery, so he would not ask a naive question like "how could the river burst during the spring dry season?"

The Yellow River is a river of capricious temper, not to be judged by common sense. Diwu Lun had once ordered Du Shi, a technically-minded official in charge of river and canal affairs, to tally its outbursts, and found that over two hundred years, there had been nine major floods.

Apart from one during the Chu-Han transition whose season was hard to determine, the other eight were evenly distributed: two each in spring, summer, autumn, and winter — which shows just how "temperamental" the Yellow River truly is.

When autumn waters arrive and heavy rains bring flooding, it bursts its banks. In deep winter, along stretches where the lower course lies farther north than the upper course, the ice-flood season freezes the northern part first and the southern part later. When water from upstream arrives, an ice dam has already formed downstream, so the river often spills over its banks, forcing everyone for miles around to flee.

Diwu Lun recalled the spectacular sight of his first ice flood in New Qinzhong: the Yellow River's ice line cut across the ochre water like a winding blade-slash on a yellow-brown curtain, sharp and vivid. Gazing from the embankment into the river, the great blooming lotus-like ice clusters had vanished. Jagged, interlocking shards of ice, thrust upright and wedged together like dogs' teeth, now dominated the entire channel. The ice sheet was lifted and pushed upward by the current. Some ice shards were sharp as swords, some blocks as large as rooftops, and some thin ice, unable to bear the crush, had already crawled up the embankment and onto the shore.

"When spring begins, it gets even more terrifying."

Anyone who had lived through such a scene shuddered at the memory. In this era, the water volume was somewhat greater than in later ages, and the frozen Yellow River's water level rose by at least a full zhang! When the thaw came, the upper reaches were already rushing torrentially, and the disintegrating ice flowed downstream with the water — but the lower reaches were still frozen. The ice, blocked, crawled upward and thrust downward, piling up in massive quantities to form an ice dam. Yet this great dam was unreliable: under the blazing sun's rays and the warm spring breeze's caress, it kept collapsing.

"If the thaw is slow, it's a 'civilized river opening' — at worst, it floods a few miles of the banks. Unnoticed and unfelt, you might wake the next day feeling cold, push open the door, and find that hundreds of acres of farmland a mile away are already buried under icy water, the wheat shoots all destroyed."

"But if the spring weather is fine and the temperature rises high…"

This year, for example, it had been quite warm since mid-to-late January, with no late spring cold snaps.

"Then it's a 'martial river opening'! The water drums the ice apart, ice and water descend together, ice crushes and waves surge, bursting through dikes and breaching dams — unstoppable!"

What happened today within Dongwuyang County was precisely a "martial river opening." In that area, the river runs north-south and then makes a great bend eastward, the most likely place for an ice dam to form.

By dusk, when Diwu Lun led his army near the battlefield, the scene was already too ghastly to behold.

The first they encountered along the road were "routed soldiers" — all of them Ji Province troops under Geng Chun's command. They had just quelled a rebellion in You Province and hurried south to join the battle, clashing with the Red Eyebrows. They had thought they'd stumbled upon great military merit, never imagining they would run into this.

It was said that when the river burst that morning, the ice dam by the bank had piled up like a mountain, thrust straight to the riverbed. With no path forward, the water swelled and boiled, overflowing into a disaster that swept across more than ten miles of the banks in a very short time.

Who could withstand that? Their formations were completely shattered — divisions could not find brigades, brigades could not find battalions. They gathered in scattered groups of three or five, scavenged firewood, and huddled together for warmth. They had to dry their clothes as fast as possible, or the night would be even harder to endure. Some were wounded: too slow to flee, the water had caught them. Though not swept away, the ice chunks had struck their legs like knife-cuts, leaving deep gashes. They were wailing and howling, crying for their mothers and fathers.

On every face was the dazed relief of survivors, and not one of them would go near the great river again.

Further ahead, when Diwu Lun climbed a slightly higher hillock, as far as his eyes could see, there was only a cold, dead, silent world…

Where the ice run had passed, trees were toppled, houses and walls razed flat. In some places, it had frozen over again. Stiff corpses, frozen faces, soaked in the icy water — among them Ji Province soldiers, and Red Eyebrow troops as well. Both sides of the battle had suffered heavy losses under nature's assault.

Geng Chun, who was busily arranging search-and-rescue and rallying the troops, came over in a rather bedraggled state to beg punishment. Before the battle had even begun, they had already lost officers and men.

Diwu Lun only said to him: "In New Qinzhong, there is a saying: summer floods are easy to fight, ice floods are hard to guard against. When an ice flood bursts the banks, the river officials are blameless. You merely happened to be here at the wrong time — what crime is there?"

New Qinzhong — that is, the later Ningxia region — was vast and sparsely populated, with no dikes. Now the Yellow River had changed course, far from the dikes built by the Warring States lords and the Han dynasty. For a thousand miles downstream, the channel was again without restraint. When the Mother River threw a tantrum, she grew ever more reckless — impossible to guard against.

"This is a natural disaster, not a man-made calamity."

"For our army, and for the Red Eyebrows, it is the same."

Diwu Lun glared at those few who still wanted to spin this as "Heaven destroying the Red Eyebrows." The narrative had to be carefully managed — he could not let it end with various unofficial histories pinning on him the slander of "using water as a weapon."

"The Red Eyebrows also suffered heavy losses."

Geng Chun reported: "Struck by the great flood, they too have scattered into disarray."

When the flood came, the Red Eyebrows and the Wei army had all fled together, fighting each other for the slightly higher rooftops and hillocks, then hastily breaking off, like snakes and rats squeezed into the same burrow. Only after the danger passed did they come to their senses and resume fighting — but it was all scattered skirmishing. Relying on their armored troops' superiority, the Wei army generally had the upper hand. The captured and surrendered were beyond counting.

It could barely be counted as a pyrrhic victory, but if they had fought a proper pitched battle, Geng Chun was confident he could have kept losses to a minimum. Yet this great flood had swept through, and the Ji Province troops had lost at least ten to twenty percent of their strength. It pained him deeply.

"Your Majesty, these prisoners — how should they be dealt with?"

Since the great battle at Aocang last winter, Red Eyebrow prisoners had become a major headache for the Wei army's commanders. Once captured, they often numbered in the tens of thousands, and they were too accustomed to doing things their own way — not as easy to reorganize as ordinary bandit rabble. Keeping them fed wasted grain, yet slaughtering them all was also… not quite right.

So they could only assign troops to guard them. It was said that prisoner-of-war camps around Luoyang had sprung up everywhere. Today they had captured at least another ten thousand, and in the future might seize a hundred thousand or several hundred thousand more — how was that to be handled?

Diwu Lun's thinking had undergone a small shift today. After a long silence, he said: "The natural disaster is merciless, but we, after all, are human."

"Gather them up for now. I have my own considerations."

After Geng Chun and the others withdrew, Diwu Lun stood alone on the hillock, feeling the biting cold on his face, and looking at the corpses mingled in the icy water — indistinguishable now whether they were Wei soldiers or Red Eyebrows. The longer he looked, the more his vision blurred.

It was a pyrrhic victory, at least — but why was he so furious? Why was he so anguished?

Because a modern man, accustomed to a powerful state that shields against all natural disasters, takes so many things for granted. He had almost forgotten: frost and snow, ice floods, deluges, plagues — these are the natural disasters that play out ceaselessly across five thousand years of civilization's history. Most of the time, for most states, what could be done was limited — little more than lying down and waiting to die.

Emperors, kings, generals, and ministers, convinced they have built mighty armies, think: with this army, what city can they not conquer? Reckless heroes of the wilds, fearing neither heaven nor earth, boast of "sweeping the realm." Yet when the river frowns in fury, together they throw away their armor and helmets, their true forms exposed. Puny humankind — before nature's torrent, utterly fragile!

The wind moaned and wailed, as if the great river was laughing in mockery. Rebels, magnates, emperors? Before this surging great river, they are nothing but a swarm of feeble, laughable insects!

Diwu Lun stood there like that for a long time, lost in who knows what thoughts, when Geng Chun hurried over to report good news.

"Your Majesty, Cheng Tou Zilu — captured!"

…

Cheng Tou Zilu was discovered on the rooftop of a surviving hamlet dwelling. When arrested, he was just staring blankly at the nuo mask in his hands, offering no resistance whatsoever.

It was as if a single ice flood had snapped the backbone of this man who had stubbornly fought Diwu Lun for years, unyielding through a hundred setbacks.

Wearing heavy shackles and a wooden cangue, he was brought into Diwu Lun's traveling headquarters tent. The Wei army colonels cursed and spat at this rebel — most of them hailed from Ji Province magnate families and had suffered greatly at Cheng Tou Zilu's hands. Those calling for his beating and execution were beyond counting.

Cheng Tou Zilu seemed not to hear, for his heart was already dead. Entering the tent, he saw it brightly lit within. Diwu Lun, not particularly tall, was dressed in plain clothes, standing with his hands behind his back, studying the map on the wall. Only a few Palace Gentlemen and personal guards attended him.

"Cheng Tou Zilu, also known as Yuan Zeng."

"Commander of the Great River Red Eyebrows."

Diwu Lun turned and sized up Cheng Tou Zilu. He had expected the man to raise his head in furious defiance, cursing without end — but Cheng Tou Zilu's face was dark and despondent, the posture of a man awaiting death.

Diwu Lun shook his head. "I had thought you a man of indomitable spirit, yet you are so listless. Having suffered this great defeat, have you admitted defeat?"

"Defeat?" Cheng Tou Zilu finally showed a flicker of reaction, sneering. "I penetrated deep into Wei Commandery, burned Shalu, and returned laden with grain. Had it not been for bad luck — encountering the river opening, struck by the great flood — what would the Ji Province troops have amounted to?"

Diwu Lun said: "In that case, I shall now send you back to your camp to rally your troops, beat the drums, and attack, to decide victory and defeat. The losers shall all be killed. Are you willing?"

At this, Cheng Tou Zilu stopped his stubborn bluster. He had fled in the first place because he knew he could not win a head-on fight. The Red Eyebrows had also heard that the Wei Emperor did not have the habit of wantonly slaughtering prisoners — those captured in the past only had to do a few years of hard labor before becoming registered commoners again. He, Cheng Tou Zilu, had no more will to live, but why drag his brothers and sisters to die with him?

So he only closed his eyes and said: "Since I have been captured by you, kill me or mutilate me as you please. Say no more!"

Diwu Lun smiled. "You, Cheng Tou Zilu, are also a man skilled at leading troops. To have tangled with General Wenyuan for so long shows you are no ordinary man. It would be a pity to throw your life away like this. I still wish to use you, and the Great River Red Eyebrows, to deal with a great enemy of mine."

"Hahaha." Spoken so bluntly, it made Cheng Tou Zilu laugh aloud. "Diwu Lun, though you drove the old woman Chi to her death, you have governed the Wei lands decently — so much so that when we penetrated deep, even the poor and suffering were unwilling to join us. I had thought you a standout among emperors. I never imagined you would be so laughable."

He ground his teeth. "You want to use me as a blade, to strike down Giant Fan for you? Or the King of Wu, Liu Xiu? Do not feign compassion. You so-called heroes, whose hearts are filled only with the way of emperors and hegemonies, merely want to use the Red Eyebrows as a knife, to slowly wear us down to nothing!"

Diwu Lun, however, said: "You have guessed wrong. My greatest enemy is neither Fan Chong, nor Liu Xiu, nor Gongsun Shu."

Of course, Wang Mang was even less worthy — Diwu Lun did not even feel the slightest desire to send anyone to "spread rumors" about the old farmer's true identity.

"Seeing this ice flood today, I finally understand."

"My great enemy, the great scourge of all under heaven, is the Yellow River!"

He roared these words, carrying all the indignation and unwillingness born from everything he had witnessed today.

Cheng Tou Zilu was quite astonished, but then he heard Diwu Lun say: "I have interrogated several captured Red Eyebrows Elders and heard them speak of Chi Zhaoping and your long-cherished wish. You are all disaster victims along the river, driven by the river's ravages. At first, most of you hoped the Xin court would control the river and provide relief, but what came instead were ever more burdensome miscellaneous taxes, forcing you to rebel."

Wang Jujun, who daily shouted about remaking heaven and earth — that giant in theory, that dwarf in action — showed his true colors before the Yellow River's breached dikes and simply lay down to accept it. This was what Diwu Lun despised most about him.

That moment, that time, is exactly like this moment, this time.

Diwu Lun said: "You therefore came to deeply hate the Xin, believing that by destroying Shalu, you could make the great river calm its fury. Now Shalu is destroyed, Wang Mang's ancestral tombs and temples are all razed — but what of the great river? Has it settled down?"

Not in the slightest. The Yellow River, with a sudden ice flood, thoroughly and utterly mocked the ignorance and naivety of the Red Eyebrows.

So it turned out they had toiled only for a false lie. Now that everything had come to nothing, Cheng Tou Zilu collapsed as well, not even having the will to raise his blade and fight again, wanting only to die and be done with it.

"When I said earlier that you suffered a great defeat, I did not mean defeat by me."

"I meant: after you have been defeated by the river, are you content to become drowned ghosts at the bottom of the water!?"

Diwu Lun's words struck Cheng Tou Zilu's chest one by one, making his deadened heart beat again.

"The Emperor — you cannot count on him."

"The gods and immortals — they are utterly indifferent to whether you live or die."

"What is to be done?"

"What is to be done?" If Cheng Tou Zilu knew, he would not be so despairing! They had already tried every method, including cruelly throwing boys and girls into the river as offerings to the River Count, bowing low in worship, begging her not to be angry anymore. But the Yellow River never listened, still going its own way. Ever since it breached and changed course, with no restraints left, it had run wild nearly every year.

"There is still one way!"

Diwu Lun said: "Since in ancient times there was Yu the Great who tamed the waters, and in recent times Emperor Wu of Han who plugged the breach at Huzi, the river's waters are not necessarily beyond control."

"Yuan Zeng, Cheng Tou Zilu."

"You have brought chaos upon Wei Commandery and Hebei; your crimes are heavy, and dying a hundred deaths would not be unjust. But now there is a chance for all the Red Eyebrows to atone for their crimes through service — to live, and even to return to their homes."

Diwu Lun extended his hand toward him: "I am not like that mediocre ruler Wang Mang, who simply surrendered and appeased the river."

"The great river has flooded for over ten years, destroying countless qing of fertile fields, harming millions of disaster victims, and killing more than can be counted. I loathe it deeply!"

"I do not believe in some sage descending to the world to save all living things. Only by relying on our own two hands can we make her settle down again."

"I intend to use the Red Eyebrows of the great river as a long tether, to bind this 'Yellow Dragon' together! I am determined to turn her from the great scourge of all under heaven into the great benefit of all under heaven."

This was what Diwu Lun had said to the Yellow River atop the small hill.

Yes, we are insects. The individual is forever insignificant, forever unable to conquer nature.

But we too have the right to survive. Better to be a praying mantis brandishing its arms, still waving and struggling amid the surging tide!

Human institutions and civilization also spiral upward through these repeated struggles, ascending and transcending step by step.

"In ancient times, Hou Yi shot down the nine suns, Emperor Shun eliminated the Four Perils, and the Duke of Zhou drove out the fierce beasts."

"How can people today be inferior to those who came before?"

"I stand here, on behalf of the suffering and afflicted millions under heaven, to issue a declaration of war against the Yellow River!"

PS: Two chapters tonight.