Chapter 511: Losing a Horse

The You Province shock cavalry — if you set aside the motley riders from Liaodong and Liaoxi — consisted mainly of two divisions: Yuyang and Shanggu.

The Hu barbarians are skilled archers, and the men of You Province are skilled archers too. As the Han dynasty's main force on the northeastern frontier against the Xiongnu and Wuhuan, the years of peace with the barbarians after Emperor Xuan's reign left both armies with no battlefield to prove themselves on — until the chaos of this age descended.

The Yuyang shock cavalry already made their name in last year's Hebei campaign. The Shanggu shock cavalry, by contrast, had once been famed as a crack force "with ten thousand men who could draw the bow," and had produced two great commanders, Geng Yan and Jing Dan. Yet, under Geng Kuang's single-minded policy of "hiding their strength" to secure a safe retirement, they sat out the decisive battle, and all the glory was stolen by their neighbors from Yuyang.

Only today, at the decisive battle against the Red Eyebrows on the Ji River, did the Shanggu shock cavalry arrive at the final moment. The instant they joined the field, the outcome of this war was utterly beyond doubt.

A commander shapes a unit's character. The Yuyang shock cavalry, following the brash man Gai Yan, fight with a desperate, headlong charge.

But the Shanggu riders, led by Kou Xun, had prepared far more thoroughly. They reached the battlefield on packhorses, switched to their war mounts, formed ranks, and only then, with perfect composure, charged into the Red Eyebrow troops who had just been routed and were scattered all across the field. Nor did they simply charge and leave it at that — like a lion pouncing on a rabbit, they drove and slaughtered at a measured pace.

Kou Xun straightened in the saddle and watched the situation intently. Although he held a military title and was no stranger to army affairs, his main work was still as a civil official. On the march he could keep the whole picture in view, but once battle was joined he found it somewhat dizzying, so he delegated authority entirely to his colonels, letting them act as they saw fit, his only fear being that something might go wrong.

Fortunately, the Red Eyebrows had just suffered a defeat and were now struck from the rear — they instantly fell into chaos. Elite shock cavalry against broken troops was, for a time, like chopping melons and slicing vegetables: three thousand riders could chase thirty thousand men.

To the south, the Yuyang troops had already smashed Yang Yin's division. Gai Yan personally led the thousand-odd riders who still had fight left in them northward. The two You Province shock cavalry forces were like a pair of hounds, helping their "master," Diwu Lun, encircle and hunt the Red Eyebrows.

It was just as the art of war says: When the enemy flees and his officers and men scatter, either flank him on both sides or fall upon his van and rear — then his general may be captured.

But in the end they could not seize Fan Chong. Setting aside the routed troops who scattered in every direction after the collapse, there were still twenty to thirty thousand men retreating with Fan Chong after the defeat. They were driven by the Wei army into a vast marsh that had not yet dried, where they used the muddy ground to hold off the cavalry.

To the south, the Yuyang shock cavalry, drunk on slaughter, charged in recklessly and lost several dozen men to a counterattack. The Shanggu shock cavalry were about to press the pursuit deeper as well, but Kou Xun called them back with the sounding of the gongs.

"Low-lying marshland, where advance and retreat alike sink into mire — this is fatal ground for cavalry. A wise general steers far clear of it; a foolish general meets his ruin there. We must not pursue!"

Kou Xun, adhering to the principle of caution, had his colonels position the Shanggu shock cavalry along the northern edge of the dry marsh while he himself hurried to the five-colored banners to pay his respects to Diwu Lun. How this battle was to be fought — that was for the Emperor to decide.

"Your servant, Assistant General and Governor of Guangyang, Kou Xun, prostrates himself before Your Majesty. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years without end!"

This was the first time Kou Xun had met Diwu Lun, but unlike the arrogant and unceremonious Gai Yan, Kou Xun observed every propriety.

Diwu Lun bade Kou Xun rise and, sizing him up, said: "I have always regarded Minister Jing Sun as my trusted right hand, and Sun, in You Province, has two arms of his own. One arm is Gai Yan of Yuyang; the other arm is none other than Kou Ziyi! Today, both the left and right arms of the northern domain are here, and they have beaten the Red Eyebrows to the ground — leaving Sun himself a provincial governor with no troops to command."

It turned out that, after quelling the You Province rebellion at the end of last year, Jing Dan had been anxious about the Emperor's clash with the Red Eyebrows, knowing that it would decide the future course of the Central Plains. After sending the Yuyang troops on ahead, he had then dispatched the Shanggu shock cavalry south as well.

That the "civil official" Kou Xun was placed in overall command was a choice with considerable meaning behind it.

"I could well have sent Wang Liang, the Governor of Yuyang, south. But in the end I chose Ziyi. Do you know why?"

At the time, Jing Dan's illness still showed no sign of improvement. He laid his cards on the table with Kou Xun: "His Majesty's imperial physicians and the ginseng broth from Liaodong have done little good. I fear my days are numbered, and even if by luck I live a few more years, I can no longer remain in You Province… Ah, I cannot set my mind at ease about this place. Looking across the court and the realm, the one man best suited to shepherd the myriad people of the northern provinces on Heaven's behalf is you, Ziyi, and you alone!"

Had it not been for Kou Xun, the commandery seat would nearly have been lost when the rebellion erupted. And of course, there was another reason: years ago, when Jing Dan first arrived in Shanggu, it was Kou Xun, then serving as a Merit Evaluator, who had recommended him to the Geng clan. The two were the closest of friends. Wang Liang, by contrast, was an old subordinate of Wu Han. Although both belonged to You Province, the Shanggu faction and the Yuyang faction were rivals all the same. Who was closer and who more distant — need that even be said?

But Jing Dan knew that Kou Xun had thrown in his lot with Diwu Lun too late; in terms of seniority, he would absolutely rank behind men like Peng Chong. So Jing Dan wanted him to come to the Ji River and contribute his share of effort, and also to let the Emperor see Kou Xun's ability with his own eyes.

Kou Xun, tears in his eyes, had accepted the charge. To live up to Jing Dan's weighty expectations, he naturally had to leave Diwu Lun with a fine impression.

He came from a great clan of Shanggu. Not only did he speak with perfect decorum, but his build was well-proportioned. Paying his respects before the chariot, he won the favorable regard of the assembled Palace Gentlemen and staff officers, who nodded to one another and thought privately: "And we imagined that all the frontier officials of You Province were crude military oafs like Wu Han and Gai Yan…"

The words had barely faded when the clatter of hoofbeats sounded. A big man, nearly nine feet tall, came galloping up, his horse armor covered in broken arrows and bloodstains.

Impetuous by nature, he rode all the way to the spot guarded by the Gentlemen of the Palace Guard before dismounting. Clutching an object in one hand, he strode toward Diwu Lun. His bearing, and the killing aura from the bloody battle that he had not yet put aside, made the imperial bodyguards' hands twitch instinctively toward their sword hilts!

The newcomer was none other than Gai Yan. Sweat streaming from his forehead blurred his vision somewhat; he wiped it with his hand, only to smear blood across his face as well, making it worse.

And so Gai Yan walked straight past Kou Xun and the rest of the company as if they did not exist, went directly to where Diwu Lun stood surrounded by the crowd and the axe-chariots, draped in a great cloak, prostrated himself, and lifted up the object in his hands as an offering.

"Your Majesty! Here is the head of the Red Eyebrow bandit chieftain, Yang Yin!"

Pitiful Yang Yin — he escaped Aocang, but he could not escape the Ji River, and in the end he was slain by Gai Yan after all.

Diwu Lun was interested only in Fan Chong. He could not spare a close look at the head. Seeing that Gai Yan had come alone, a sudden ill premonition seized him, and he asked urgently: "Where is Wenyuan?"

Gai Yan looked blank. "Commandant Ma is in the rear, forming up the troops to surround the bandits and prevent their escape. He sent this guilty general ahead."

Kou Xun had just arrived and did not yet understand what had happened, but Diwu Lun grasped it at once.

"Ma Yuan is helping Gai Yan!"

Earlier, because Gai Yan had been so worried about Ma Yuan's safety that he had stood up Zhang Zong and nearly trapped the allied force in a tight encirclement, Diwu Lun had stripped him of his command and given him only the title of "Acting General" so he could redeem himself through service.

When Ma Yuan learned of this, he had deliberately sent Gai Yan ahead to present the head and steal the limelight.

Take the blame upon yourself; give the credit to your subordinates — that was Ma Yuan's style.

Diwu Lun turned to those beside him and said with a laugh: "Wenyuan truly treats his subordinates like his own infants, his own newborn children."

Seeing Gai Yan's face covered in blood and sweat, he considerately ordered the Palace Gentlemen to wipe it clean for him. Had it been Ma Yuan, Diwu Lun would have done it himself, but a sovereign's personal closeness is an exceedingly precious thing — Gai Yan did not yet rank for that.

Only after a full quarter-hour, when the situation on the battlefield had grown more stable, the Wei army had pressed right up to the marsh, and the twenty to thirty thousand Red Eyebrow remnants were surrounded, did Ma Yuan finally make his way to the central command.

Diwu Lun saw a cart approaching from afar beneath the leopard-tail banners and immediately frowned. Ma Yuan was an untamed spirit by nature — if he could ride a horse, he would never sit in a cart. Then he saw someone lying in the cart, wrapped in horsehide, utterly motionless. Coupled with Gai Yan's report that Ma Yuan had personally led a charge earlier and been gravely wounded, Diwu Lun's heart gave a violent lurch!

Fortunately, when the cart drew near and he saw that although Ma Yuan was lying down, he was moving, Diwu Lun's mind was set somewhat at ease.

Ma Yuan forced himself out of the cart, refusing all help. Leaning on a three-foot ring-pommel saber with its haft planted in the ground, he shuffled step by step toward Diwu Lun. When he drew closer, he tried to prove his strength by casting the saber aside and continuing forward, but Diwu Lun had already taken several strides to meet him and was supporting him by the arm.

Ma Yuan's calf had been nearly pierced through by a spear — a bloody hole had been punched clean through it. The bone, mercifully, had not been grazed. Though it had been given a crude bandaging, blood was still seeping out even now.

"Your Majesty…" Ma Yuan looked aggrieved; he had a bellyful of words he wanted to say.

Diwu Lun's gaze was fixed entirely on that calf. "Has it been treated?"

"A flesh wound…" Ma Yuan wanted first to "beg forgiveness for his offense," but Diwu Lun gave him no chance to speak. Setting aside his usual intimate manner with Ma Yuan, he rebuked him with a stern face:

"Last year, when Wan Xiu struck Longyou, he took a mountain bypath, tumbled down a slope, and injured his back. He too said it was 'just a flesh wound,' nothing to worry about. And what was the result? One winter later, Junyou cannot rise from his bed!"

The age of chaos had lasted only a few years, yet the founding heroes who had fought alongside Diwu Lun for the realm were already a crowd of cripples and invalids: Jing Dan gravely ill, Wan Xiu with his injured back, Geng Chun, who had broken his shoulder during the Hebei campaign and now walked with his neck askew, no longer the proud, upright figure of his youth.

Wu Han, at least, was tough as nails — he had hurt his foot in Hebei, and now he was bouncing around Longxi as if nothing had ever happened.

Blades and arrows have no eyes. If generals fare like this, what of the common soldiers? The cruelty of war was plain to see.

Diwu Lun did not want Ma Yuan to escape death on the battlefield only to meet a painful end from an infection. With a wave of his hand, he ordered:

"Imperial physician! Fetch the strong liquor at once!"

In Chang'an, Diwu Lun had ordered grain distilled into "bitter liquor," and then had that bitter liquor placed in the same apparatus the Han imperial house and feudal lords used to distill "celestial dew," ultimately producing a distilled spirit he called "strong liquor" — though its purity fell far short of the surgical spirits of later ages.

It was used mainly in medicine, above all for metal wounds, and stored in celadon bottles sterilized with boiling water — again, a Han-era technique that Diwu Lun had merely ordered slightly improved.

The strong liquor was in short supply; ordinary soldiers could forget about it. It was mainly used for the metal wounds of officers at the rank of colonel and above. In principle, human life knows neither noble nor base — but it does know an order of priority.

Since this eastern campaign began, it had been tried several times with good results. Diwu Lun ordered the imperial physician to disinfect and re-bandage Ma Yuan's wound at once inside the command tent, brooking no refusal. He even picked up the porcelain bottle and asked him teasingly:

"Wenyuan, would you prefer the imperial physician to do it, or shall I do it myself?"

Their respective stations were no longer what they had been in those bygone days. The imperial physician did it, of course. Diwu Lun merely sat across from him and watched them work on Ma Yuan.

Ma Yuan refused the chopsticks the imperial physician tried to wedge into his mouth, so Diwu Lun asked him, in fits and starts, about the whole course of the battle he had just fought.

The team of imperial physicians — established in the palace and crammed full of knowledge by His Majesty the Emperor — used clean cloths to carefully wipe away the filth on Ma Yuan's leg, grime he had had no time to clean properly in the heat of battle.

At this stage it should only be a minor pain; Ma Yuan's expression did not change as he reported the entire course of the fighting to Diwu Lun.

Only when the boiled strong liquor was poured little by little onto his wound did the great pain come! Ma Yuan's voice paused briefly, then he immediately went on speaking, as if nothing had happened.

By the time the imperial physicians had more or less finished, dressed the wound with their ancestral golden wound salve, and bandaged it up, Ma Yuan's whole body was drenched in sweat, yet he had not so much as furrowed his brow — truly a man of iron.

Ma Yuan had nearly reached the part where Gai Yan spurred his horse and cut down Yang Yin. Right at the most stirring moment, catching the smell of liquor in the tent, his craving was instantly stirred, and he looked at Diwu Lun. "Your Majesty, may one drink in the army?"

"Others may not, but Wenyuan may." Diwu Lun leaned in and lowered his voice, as if evading the ears of the army disciplinarians. "The Empress brewed wine and sent it with the army. Knowing that Wenyuan was waiting to drink, I shall have someone fetch it, to celebrate your deeds."

Deeds? Ma Yuan pointed at the half-bottle of strong liquor that still remained. "After today's bitter fight, one ought to drink strong liquor!"

Diwu Lun shook his head. "Strong liquor cannot be drunk — it will burn a hole through your stomach and bowels. But there is bitter liquor; would you care to taste it?"

Bitter liquor was drinking liquor that had not undergone a second distillation, lower in proof than strong liquor. Diwu Lun had also had some brought along, to use as a painkiller.

"Wenyuan drinks it. I shall drink only what the Empress brewed."

Diwu Lun had someone pour a small cup of bitter liquor for Ma Yuan, but poured himself some of his wife's homemade rice wine. He touched cups with Ma Yuan, drained his in one gulp, and watched Ma Yuan with a beaming smile.

The Empress's wine was good — the millet wine carried a sweetness, soft and lingering on the tongue. A warmth spread through Diwu Lun's stomach. Healthful!

Ma Yuan was of course not one to be outdone. He looked at the "bitter liquor" before him, clearer than rice wine, its smell indeed very sharp. But he had spent his life riding fierce horses, bedding fierce women, enduring blade and soldier, fearing neither fire nor water — would he be afraid of one tiny cup of liquor? He threw his head back and drained it too! How could this water have no... taste... Aaagh!

The composed expression he had worn all through the treatment of his wound instantly collapsed. Ma Yuan's nose and eyes scrunched together, his mouth could not help but gape open, and he even choked and started coughing — after all, it was an experience he had never had before.

"Wenyuan does not flinch at arrows, stones, or heavy wounds, yet changes color at bitter liquor. This matter absolutely must not get out."

Diwu Lun had known this would happen. He merely laughed heartily and had someone pass water to Ma Yuan.

Because it burned the mouth with bitter fire, no one was willing to drink it, which was why it was called "bitter liquor." Diwu Lun himself had spat it out the first time he tried a sip.

This damned stuff was even harder to swallow than Jiang Xiaobai!

When Ma Yuan had finally recovered, and the searing, fiery edge had slightly eased, he savored the aftertaste. This stinging pain and bitterness — how closely it resembled his own defeat and besiegement! For a moment he too began laughing along with Diwu Lun. The two of them laughed, pointing at each other, laughing louder and louder, unable to stop for a long while.

Ruler and minister were chatting and laughing merrily inside the tent. Outside, the towering Gai Yan tilted his head and peered in curiously. He only caught a whiff of liquor; he sniffed, then licked his lips, remembering how, after the great battle at Aocang that day, when he had presented his "warmed" wine to Ma Yuan, the man had never been this joyful.

"What wine is the Commandant of State drinking, to be so delighted?"

Perhaps what makes a man glad is not the wine, but the company.

Gai Yan had never understood how heroes like Wu Han and Ma Yuan could all pledge their loyalty to Diwu Lun. Why could he never see the august spirit of the Wei Emperor? He only shook his head to himself.

Once the laughter had subsided, Ma Yuan secretly wiped away a tear, then still cupped his hands and bowed his head to Diwu Lun, sighing. "Your servant was careless for a moment and was actually defeated by Fan Chong. Had the main army not arrived, I might well have ruined the great plan."

Diwu Lun only said, "Even a thousand-li horse may stumble. Had you not tied down the Red Eyebrows, there would have been no victory today. In my eyes, you and Gai Yan have truly won five battles out of five, and in the end cut down Yang Yin in formation, severing Fan Chong's arm — a deed of supreme merit!"

It is said that in the chaos at the end of the Xin dynasty, there were originally two great masters of the set phrase. One was Liu Xiu — phrases like 'leave outside consideration,' 'deny self and serve the public,' 'sturdy grass in a fierce wind,' 'hack through brambles and thorns,' 'well-matched,' 'barely satisfactory,' 'bare one's heart' — all came from Xiu.

Second only to him was Ma Yuan, with phrases like 'wrap one's corpse in horsehide,' 'old but vigorous,' 'a great vessel is slow to finish,' and quite a few more.

But now, out of nowhere, there was an extra one: Diwu Lun. Without meaning to, he had stolen several from Liu Xiu. Today he used yet another little phrase, lightly and casually setting the nature of Ma Yuan's minor defeat.

In Diwu Lun's view, a flaw in an ever-victorious general was by no means a bad thing. A horse stumbling was far better than his "losing his horse."

Yet how could such words easily comfort the proud and arrogant Ma Yuan? His unblemished, undefeated record was broken — this stain could not be washed away. Now his wound was treated, but he still could not stand, and who knew how long he would need to recover. Before men like Gai Yan, Ma Yuan talked and laughed with ease, fully displaying his heroic spirit. Only when facing Wan Xiu or Diwu Lun did he reveal his true feelings, and with some dejection he said,

"No matter what, your servant has had his leg broken by Fan Chong."

It was rare to see Ma Yuan like this. Diwu Lun shook his head, had the tent flap lifted, and pointed to the Red Eyebrow Army trapped in the dry marsh several li away. "Since ancient times, engagements have always been judged by the final outcome."

"Use the courage left from victory to pursue the desperate foe! What comes next is to achieve total victory."

Diwu Lun clapped his hand on Ma Yuan's injured thigh.

"I shall personally help Wenyuan set this leg!"