Chapter 504: Flying into the Sky

Geng Chun had read many military texts since childhood — works like the Wuzi, the Six Secret Teachings, the Qi Sunzi, the Guangwu Lord's Art of War, and he was even fortunate enough to glance through the General's Discourses compiled by the Imperial Tutor Yan Erudite…

But after looking left and right, Geng Chun still felt that Master Sun's Art of War was the finest of them all. It was not long, its words concise and meaning rich. On first reading it seemed simple, but only after truly fighting a battle and looking again did he suddenly grasp that Sunzi had touched upon every essential point of warfare. Compared to some military texts that dwell much on tactics, the Sunzi's emphasis is on strategy and the shape of the situation — it speaks of the very nature of war.

Two lines in it left a deep impression on Geng Chun: "Managing many is like managing few — it is a matter of organization."

This means: commanding a large force as freely as a small one comes from having a reasonably structured division of units.

The larger the army, the harder it is to manage. Over a thousand years, those who, like Han Xin, could say "the more the better," were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns — Bai Qi, Wang Jian, and a few others. Even someone like Liu Bang, who "could command a hundred thousand," was exceedingly scarce; each and every one of them was a supreme commander.

Geng Chun felt that his own ability could manage at most half an army: once the numbers exceeded thirty or forty thousand, he began to feel somewhat at a loss. He had fought many battles, but just could not advance beyond that.

It was Diwu Lun's speed of improvement that astonished Geng Chun. Many years ago, when Diwu Lun had just become a Major and first took command of the Boar-Rush Braves, Geng Chun was escorting grain supplies to Hongmen and talked with Diwu Lun. He had found Diwu Lun's views on warfare rather too naive, and thought he "could command no more than a thousand men."

By the time they served together in Wei Commandery, Geng Chun discovered that after being tempered in New Qinzhong, Diwu Lun had improved and "could command a division."

And when the man had completed his rebellion against Wang Mang, fought a decisive battle with Liu Bosheng, then returned to Hebei to destroy Liu Ziyu, Geng Chun began to feel that the King of Wei "could command a full army."

Meeting again today at the Heji region, in just one short year, Diwu Lun had taken a turn around Longyou and leveled up again! He had advanced by leaps and bounds to "being able to command a hundred thousand!"

Geng Chun felt that this was not so much Diwu Lun's innate brilliance, but rather that he was adept at learning, especially in "organization" — that is, the hierarchical management of the army, which he did very well.

Organizing troops by army, division, brigade, and battalion was nothing remarkable; it was an ancient system. In reality, every army was far more complex than it appeared on the surface. Take the Jizhou troops, for example: they were mainly composed of powerful clan militias. The sons of those powerful clans were the military officers, and the men they commanded were their own village kin and clansmen. Relationships formed over centuries could not be broken by a single decree. An outsider wanting them to obey? Far easier said than done.

Only Geng Chun could maintain good relations with every family and ensure they obeyed during battle.

The Guanzhong troops, the Sanhe troops, the Yuzhou troops, the Youzhou troops… each had its own characteristics, but Diwu Lun could select the most suitable men to command them, while he himself only needed to "command the commanders." By thoroughly understanding each general's preferences and temperament and controlling the commanders, the corps under them naturally became as responsive as his own limbs.

What Geng Chun did not know was that this was also a compromise Diwu Lun was forced to make with reality. If he had several hundred political commissars, he would naturally not have to tolerate the "regional quirks" of each unit. Poor Diwu Lun could only place one Army Judge in each brigade and one Deputy Army Judge in each battalion, mostly employing Palace Gentlemen and harsh officials — nominally as assistants, but in reality as supervisors. The results were barely satisfactory.

This was only peacetime management. What truly determined a commander's ability was actual combat, and that involved the second line from the art of war.

"Fighting many is like fighting few — it is a matter of signals and banners."

Directing a large force in battle as freely as a small one comes from having one's own banners distinct and the gongs and drums clear and loud.

As the saying goes, "Since voices cannot be heard, gongs and bells are used; since sight cannot reach, banners and flags are used." The sound of the gongs restrains the brave from advancing alone; the drumbeats prevent the timid from retreating alone; the banners let each unit know who advances first and who follows, so that the three armies can move in unison.

Diwu Lun had many ideas, and indeed introduced quite a few new twists with the gongs, drums, and banners. Take the banners first: a fixed system had been in place since the Warring States period. The army commander's banner was the jing, the division commander's was the fan, the brigade commander's was simply called a banner, and the battalion commander's was the hui. Different borders represented different ranks, serving as the center for each unit. Armies joining battle also had additional markers: the Left Division a dark-blue banner, the Right Division a white banner, and the Central Army a yellow banner.

Below the division level, there were also varied banners to represent different troop types: the death-defying shock troops had the Dark Hawk banner, the reserves the Double Hare banner, the crossbowmen and elite foot soldiers the Dog banner, the cavalry brigade the Bird banner, the sword-and-shield men the Feather banner, the chariot troops the Dragon banner…

In a small-scale engagement of a few thousand or ten thousand men, the battlefield was only a few li across. Each brigade and battalion could glance back and see the banner that represented them: when the hui pointed left, they went left; when it pointed right, they went right.

But today's battle with the Red Eyebrows was a great clash with nearly two hundred thousand men in total. The battlefield stretched over ten li in length and breadth. Banners were easily obscured by woods and other obstacles, making it inconvenient for units to communicate their positions and movements in time. Relying solely on couriers riding back and forth often let fleeting opportunities slip away.

So Diwu Lun boldly gave his imagination free rein and made a pioneering move.

He raised the banners representing each unit up into the sky!

…

At Diwu Lun's central command, the man operating the five-colored dragon kite was named Xu Feilian.

He was an old man with sparse hair, sallow skin, and a slender, diminutive frame, yet his arms alone were exceptionally powerful. Two disciples stood by to assist, keeping the kite high and steady, as if it were planted firmly in the heavens.

Tilting his head to gaze at the kite up in the sky, Xu Feilian felt a surge of envy. According to his original vision, it should have been him flying up there like that!

Xu Feilian was a native of Yanzhou. His family had been carpenters for generations, and from childhood he had heard the stories of Mozi and Lu Ban each crafting wooden kites.

"Mozi's wooden sparrow-hawk took three years to build, flew up into the sky, and came down after just one day."

"Lu Ban's wooden kite stayed aloft for three full days, and could even carry a person. It flew a hundred paces high, spying out the defenses of the Song capital for the King of Chu."

In his youth, Xu Feilian was utterly fascinated by these tales. After finishing his work, in his spare time he would whittle wood, hoping to learn from those two predecessors and fly up into the sky himself to take a look.

After decades of tinkering, amid the mockery of countless colleagues, relatives, and neighbors, Xu Feilian actually managed to cobble together a strange contraption: a wooden frame like a giant bird, covered with cloth and studded with long bird feathers, with ring-and-pivot mechanisms on the frame.

Xu Feilian could not have someone launch him into the sky like a wooden kite, but he had once tried operating it from a height, gliding downward…

Though it lasted only a brief moment, Xu Feilian truly experienced the wonder of flight.

Unfortunately, the thing broke every time it flew. He needed more money and resources to support his hobby. Who under heaven had the most money? The Emperor!

It happened that the Xin Dynasty Emperor Wang Mang, wishing to subdue the Xiongnu, summoned talented and unusual individuals from all over to assist. That was how Xu Feilian came to gather at Hongmen with a crowd of swindling charlatans to perform before Wang Mang. Afterwards, Wang Mang appointed him "Army Coordinator" and he accompanied the army on campaign, but proved entirely useless. He soon returned to Chang'an and worked under the Privy Treasurer, but could never again secure funds from the increasingly impoverished court.

What followed needs no elaboration. Diwu Lun rose in arms at Hongmen and overthrew the Xin Dynasty. Xu Feilian, along with the other officials of the Privy Treasurer, simply changed masters. Just when he thought his life's work would be ignored, Diwu Lun, then still the King of Wei, suddenly sought him out.

"The day you flew, Sir Xu — I was there too!"

Diwu Lun thought highly of his work and gave Xu Feilian money, men, and materials, but demanded that Xu Feilian make things that met his own requirements!

Diwu Lun believed that, given the current level of technology, having a man cling to a kite to observe the enemy from the sky was far too impractical. It was better to settle for the next best thing and use it for communication among their own forces.

He did not want gliders; he wanted kites!

And so Xu Feilian, a pioneer of human flight experiments, was frustratingly reduced to a kite maker. With a touch of mischief, Diwu Lun continued the official title from the Xin Mang era, making Xu Feilian an "Army Coordinator" who trained a batch of disciples, forming a communications unit directly subordinate to the Emperor.

Making large kites that could fly high required time and trial and error. They missed the Hebei campaign, and the battles in Longyou were all small affairs in gullies and ravines where they could not be put to great use. Only today did they finally take the stage.

Though he felt some regret at not flying himself, Xu Feilian still earnestly piloted the dragon kite representing the central army, while keeping an eye on the brightening sky.

His disciples had been dispatched by the Emperor to the various units. Now, standing on slowly moving war chariots, they began sending the kites representing each unit up into the sky, letting the Emperor know the positions of all the armies and issue commands accordingly.

Several li away, in a position north of the battlefield, a clay-yellow monster flew — like a great lizard with an extra pair of wings. This was the divine beast of legend, the Yinglong, who fought Chiyou on behalf of the Yellow Emperor in the wilds of Jizhou!

"When the Yinglong is about to rise, it summons the clouds and descends to campaign!"

Diwu Lun had chosen the Yinglong as the symbol of the Left Army's Jizhou troops. Beside the Yinglong kite, a green triangular kite rose, signaling that the Jizhou troops had not yet encountered the enemy ahead.

News that once required a man to ride a horse for half a ke to deliver could now be known in an instant.

If Xu Feilian turned his head, he would see, ten li to the rear, a pair of linked white Double Hare kites floating. That was the rear army commanded by Dou Rong, composed of conscripts, civilian laborers, and miscellaneous troops — in warfare, the Double Hare banner usually signified the reserves.

Five li south of the central army, the shock troops of the Right Army under Zheng Tong were represented by the Dark Hawk kite, its black wings spread wide, with a yellow triangular kite beside it, meaning they had encountered a small detachment of Red Eyebrow forces.

Ten li ahead at the very front was a kite of black and yellow stripes, the Tiger — that was Zhang Zong's Sanhe Army. A crimson triangular kite circling beside the Tiger kite meant they were engaged in small-scale skirmishing with the Red Eyebrow Army. If the red kite were replaced by a black one, it would indicate full-scale battle had begun with the enemy.

Relying on kites of different shapes and colors, they formed a set of "kite signals." Diwu Lun assigned a group of sharp-eyed Palace Gentlemen who were not color-blind to specialize in this task, recording the signals transmitted by each unit and feeding them back to the command post immediately. The staff officers would then promptly mark the movements of each unit on the map.

Although this system was severely limited by the weather — even with the most well-trained kite handlers, accidents like snapped strings or kites spinning wildly in strong winds still occurred — it was the best makeshift method for "real-time communication" that Diwu Lun could devise.

Diwu Lun even thought: "With these, I could even issue an order like 'crossbowmen and elite foot soldiers, advance fifty paces,' and it could be done!"

Having thought this, Diwu Lun secretly cautioned himself. He had finally solved the problem of being unable to maintain real-time contact with his subordinates in a great battle. But now that he had this capability, as the commander of the three armies, he had to keep his own hands in check and reduce pointless orders that bypassed the chain of command.

Through the communication of the kites, front, rear, left, right, and center — over fifty thousand men advanced in good order across the plain and began entering the battlefield.

And their opponent, the Red Eyebrow Army?

The Red Eyebrows, never mind kites, didn't even have flags or drums in their early years — otherwise Wang Mang wouldn't have mistaken them for "weapons of high antiquity." They've made some improvements since, organizing ten-thousand-man camps and raising poles as banners, but they still mill about in a chaotic crush, the flags utterly useless for command. Once they enter the battlefield, everyone just fights their own fight, waging war like a mass brawl.

This was something Diwu Lun had never been able to figure out. Was Fan Chong some kind of genius on par with Han Xin? How else could he lead such a "rabble" on campaigns across multiple provinces, defeating the Xin army, the Red Eyebrows' rivals, and the Liang-Han forces in succession — even catching Ma Yuan off guard and dealing him a heavy blow.

At that same moment, Fan Chong also spotted the kites hovering above Diwu Lun's three divisions.

The superstitious Red Eyebrow fighters clicked their tongues in wonder. Wooden kites were playthings of the court; ordinary folk had rarely seen them. They could only stare, dazzled and entranced, craning their necks until they ached. Some even murmured, "Could it be that heavenly spirits are aiding the Wei army?"

Fan Chong, however, believed none of it. He only fixed his stare on those gaudy, multicolored contraptions, spat the blade of grass from his mouth hard onto the ground, and — just before giving the order to attack — the giant Fan Chong snarled a single curse:

"Diwu Lun and his endless bag of tricks!"