Chapter 573: Utterly Routed

There was indeed a gap of nearly ten li between the two divisions of the Wei army, mostly paddy fields and village hamlets, but it was also thick with scouts. Ma Wu's breakout could not escape Cen Peng's eyes and ears, and word quickly reached the General Who Guards the South.

"Over three thousand men splitting off and heading west, carrying many Flame Han Fire Virtue banners?"

They didn't look like deserters either; this unit still had its command structure intact. Judging by the banners, it should be under Ma Wu's command.

The colonels looked at each other in bewilderment. "A great battle is imminent — why would the Han army split its forces?"

Cen Peng, however, understood. "Such an arrangement can mean only two things."

"First: Deng Yu intends to use a detached force to draw our troops away, seizing the chance to flee."

At this, Cen Peng laughed. "But cutting off a gecko's tail is no easy feat. Deng Yu is young and likely incapable of it. In my view, he means to imitate Han Xin's battle with his back to the river — he will personally array the main force by the water's edge while ordering Ma Wu to raid our rear encampment."

The back-to-the-river battle had forged Han Xin's illustrious fame, but in Cen Peng's view, this battle precedent was not so easily replicated. The frontal assault had to rely on fighting with death at one's back to defeat the oncoming enemy, while the detached surprise force also had to block the enemy's retreat — only then could the greatest results be achieved.

"Deng Yu, in desperation, is blindly copying the Marquis of Huaiyin's battle example. I fear it will only be a case of Dong Shi imitating a frown."

Now that he understood the crux of the matter, Cen Peng had a counter-strategy. The colonels requested to intercept Ma Wu, but Cen Peng shook his head. "Our army has not yet reached the battlefield and is still marching in column formation. To hastily assemble and change direction would take too long. Deng Yu's main force might seize the chaos and flee."

Luck like a rainstorm causing the river to swell was something one could seek but not count on. When Heaven offers and you do not take, you invite calamity in return. Cen Peng absolutely would not waste this chance.

So he gave the order: "Assemble the cavalry escorts of both divisions — five hundred horsemen each on the left and right. Keep your eyes on Ma Wu's force. Do not rashly attack; just follow them. Then request Lord Ren of the Jiangnan Camp to quickly dispatch Colonel Yu Kuang with five thousand infantry across the pontoon bridge to join the cavalry in encircling and annihilating Ma Wu!"

In Cen Peng's eyes, Ma Wu was merely a red deer. The real prize with the most meat was still the one before him — that lumbering, bulky Deng rhinoceros, its hind legs already mired in the mud!

To deal with such prey, one still had to bring out the old hunting skills.

With that, he raised his sword and pointed forward. "The two main divisions will continue advancing in pincer formation. When they close to within five li of the water's edge, change from column to line formation, then slowly press forward, encircling the west and south sides, leaving only the north open!"

"General Ma, the Wei cavalry has been following us relentlessly."

"I'm not blind — I can see that perfectly well!"

Ma Wu had steeled himself to accept Deng Yu's orders, even bracing for the danger of the Wei army concentrating its forces to annihilate him. At the very least, it would let over ten thousand men withdraw northward. Perhaps there was a place to cross the river upstream; at worst, they could take the Caiyang and Chongling route back to Greenwood Mountain — still better than being wiped out in one fell swoop.

Yet they had actually, with incredible "luck," threaded right through the gap between the two Wei divisions. Cen Peng had only sent two cavalry detachments to shadow them.

At this moment, Ma Wu understood. The ease with which the Han army had taken the dock camp days before, the way their scouts had traded blows evenly with the Wei riders — it had all been an illusion deliberately crafted by Cen Peng. Judging by the bearing of the riders trailing them, if they dared launch a single charge, his own three thousand foot soldiers would be in dire straits.

Yet the cavalry did not rush or panic; they simply hung back slowly several li to the east. Had Ma Wu ever been to the northern frontier, he would have recognized it immediately — these riders were herding them like shepherds driving sheep!

Though he knew their situation was dire, Ma Wu stubbornly pressed westward. But he could not help worrying: "It's a sound tactic, but even if we seize the Wei camp, what good will it do if Deng Yu cannot win the battle at the riverbank?"

But an even crueler truth awaited. Just as Ma Wu spied the Wei camp at Fancheng in the distance, he also spotted a Wei force that had just crossed north from south of the Han River — lying in wait like a man guarding a tree stump for a rabbit!

Cen Peng's army had many southerners to begin with. The colonel opposite him was actually a former member of the Greenwood bandits who had once followed Liu Bosheng in the attack on Guanzhong — his surname was Yu, given name Kuang. After surrendering to Wei, he had served under Cen Peng ever since. He ordered his troops to deploy, and the five thousand men spread across the plain like a vast unfurling net, coordinating with the cavalry to slowly encircle Ma Wu's force.

"Send word to the General Who Guards the South."

"Ma Wu has entered the net!"

Fortune turns like a windmill. This time, it was the Han army's turn to be anxious and uneasy.

"The Wei army is closing in, but there are enemies only to the west and south. The north is wide open — why not head north first and look for a chance to cross the river later?"

The colonels, platoon commanders, and soldiers of each division all viewed the war from their own limited perspective. Very few could, like Deng Yu, survey the situation from a holistic vantage point. The north still seemed safe, but with the Wei army in relentless pursuit, they could no longer escape. A marching column was at its most vulnerable — once the Wei army caught up, a single charge would send over ten thousand men scattering into chaos.

Deng Yu explained the logic to the colonels and deputy generals: "Rather than let the Wei army chase and butcher us from behind, suffering a crushing defeat and ending up as severed heads and captives, it would be better to let the troops rest a little, then fight a decisive death-match with our backs to the river. Perhaps there is still a chance of victory!"

Seeing the officers look at one another, full of hesitation, Deng Yu laboriously began citing examples for them. History held no shortage of similar victories.

"In the Spring and Autumn period, the Qin state had a general named Baili Shi. After being defeated twice in a row by Jin, he led a third campaign, burned his boats after crossing the river, and sealed the fallen in their graves before returning. Qin thus became hegemon over the Western Rong."

"And then there was Xiang Ji, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu. He led his troops across the river to strike Qin, sank all the boats, smashed the cauldrons and steamers, burned the huts and shelters, and carried only three days' rations — to show his soldiers they must fight to the death with no thought of return. He then won seven battles in seven engagements north of the river."

And with Han Xin's example added, was that not enough to prove the point?

In Deng Yu's view, he was a master of troop deployment on par with Xiang Yu and Han Xin. He rallied his men: "Soldiers plunged deep into danger know no fear; those with nowhere to run stand firm; those driven into a corner fight with desperate cohesion; those with no choice will battle fiercely. Thus we shall surely defeat Wei!"

As the Wei army closed to within five li and shifted from column to line formation, the Han army lost even the chance to flee. The colonels, left with no alternative, finally agreed to give it a try. Each returned to his own command to reorganize and array the troops, dividing into left, center, and right divisions, with Deng Yu personally commanding the center. At first, the Han soldiers, pushed to a dead end, did indeed summon fierce determination. They still remembered the taste of victory from days before, and their morale recovered somewhat.

Cen Peng, however, was in no hurry to attack. He merely brought twenty thousand men to a halt several li away, forming a perimeter, and had his soldiers sit down and rest. Behind the lines, wisps of cooking smoke even began to rise.

The summer day after the rain was scorching. Just past mid-afternoon, the moisture evaporated, turning the banks of the Jiang and Han rivers into a giant sauna. Within a quarter-hour, even Deng Yu, standing in the shade of his chariot canopy, was drenched in sweat.

His soldiers had it far worse. Their faces were covered in dried salt crystals, every man's lips cracked. The formation that had been fairly orderly moments before now swayed and tottered. Some men who had not fallen ill during the days of heavy rain now collapsed from heatstroke today. After all, they had run twenty li on empty stomachs and were long past their limit. Some even slipped away to drink water, throwing the ranks into chaos. If this dragged on, the Han army, utterly without baggage or supplies, would inevitably collapse first.

"One beat of the drum rouses the spirit, a second beat sees it wane, and by the third it is spent. We can wait no longer — we must take the initiative and attack!"

Deng Yu saw it all and burned with anxiety. He made his decision.

After ordering the military provosts to behead several soldiers who had broken ranks to drink water, the war drums rumbled to life. The Han army's formation slowly began to move forward, advancing toward the Wei army several li away!

Within the Wei army's formation stood an observation wagon two zhang high. Cen Peng stood atop it, a telescope in hand, observing every move of the Han army while issuing orders.

Diwu Lun had truly sent him a marvelous instrument. The enemy's formation, once distant and blurred, was now crystal clear before his eyes. Which part of the Han army was the most orderly, which unit's steps were in disarray — all was plain to see at a single glance.

Cen Peng even spotted the disturbance in the Han army before Deng Yu did. The Han right wing — the several thousand men on the northern side — had begun, in the course of their advance, to gradually lose cohesion with the center.

Cen Peng watched as the rearmost company of over a thousand men slowed their pace, deliberately letting their comrades move ahead of them. Their direction shifted too, veering increasingly northward.

At first, Cen Peng thought this was a tactic of Deng Yu's. But as he watched, a smile crept onto his lips.

"As I thought — the Han army is no monolith. Encircle on three sides, leave one open — it has worked!"

Only then did Deng Yu realize what was happening on the right wing. But before he could send someone to demand an explanation, the company commander on the far northern edge suddenly accelerated with his troops, breaking into a frantic run — fleeing toward the north, where no enemy could be seen.

This was desertion in the face of battle!

The act triggered a chain reaction. The remaining two thousand Han soldiers on the right wing turned their heads, saw their comrades had fled, hesitated for a moment — and then erupted in a mass rout, platoon by platoon. The colonels and company commanders tried desperately to stop it but could not regain control. The entire right wing collapsed into thunderous chaos!

Deng Yu was ultimately undone by his shallow experience and his too-brief time leading troops. Compounded by his identity as a scion of the gentry and a top student of the Imperial Academy, he had also failed to share in his soldiers' hardships. Under veteran commanders like Feng Yi or Ma Wu, the old campaigners might still have fought to the death. But risk their lives for Deng Yu? Forget it! They ran without the slightest guilt.

And Cen Peng seized this very moment, giving the order for a general assault!

As the great drums boomed, horns and suonas blared in unison. The Wei soldiers, who had been sitting on the ground, rose to their feet with a sudden surge and began their advance. Many among them were Nanyang recruits who had never seen battle, and they had been uneasy at heart. Now, hearing the front ranks say, "The Han army is routing on its own!", their spirits instantly rallied.

Their parched mouths found saliva, their grips on their spears tightened. Wave after wave, they streamed forth in succession, treading through the puddled water on the ground, and launched their attack on the Han army, now trapped in an impossible dilemma!

"Drive the Han soldiers into the river to feed the fish!"

……

Deng Yu had been a child prodigy, and after following Liu Xiu he developed an interest in military strategy. He could stand before Liu Xiu and analyze the war situation across the realm with perfect clarity, sharply pinpointing the key factors in the struggle between Han and Wei.

He could also recite the classic "Wu Sunzi" from memory without missing a single word, and had ancient battle cases and military campaigns thoroughly committed to heart.

Yet none of those military texts had ever taught him: when an army of ten thousand collapses with a thunderous roar, how does one reverse defeat?

The rout did not happen in an instant, but unfolded over a long stretch of time. One company commander, greedy for life and clinging to desperate hope, fled — triggering the collapse of the right wing. By the time the Han army charged over, the right wing, already more than half depleted, barely put up any decent resistance before it was utterly broken.

Next came the center and the left wing. They were cut off and split apart by the sudden impact of the Wei vanguard, left to fight in isolation.

At this point, the Han army truly fell into a desperate trap. The center army under Deng Yu's direct command still retained considerable fighting strength, and amid cries of "Repay our sovereign!" and "Long live the Great Han!" they struggled to counterattack.

But what terrified Deng Yu most was that the opposing Cen Peng could issue orders the very moment every gap appeared in the Han lines. Though the Wei army's execution was far from flawless, it was enough to seize the initiative at every turn, foiling every counterattack and breakout Deng Yu tried to organize.

By the time the battle reached late afternoon, the left wing was already completely swallowed by the tide of Wei soldiers, and the center army had suffered grievous losses. The remaining two thousand-odd men slowly retreated southward to the edge of the surging Han River, standing on the muddy flats, nearly every man wounded. They had no chance left.

And as the calls to surrender rang out, Han soldiers on the outer perimeter began laying down their weapons in succession, following their platoon commanders and company commanders, choosing to become captives. Perhaps this, too, was a way for the officers and men to return to their old homes in Nanyang?

As if by a miracle, Deng Yu, on this battlefield of wildly flying arrows, remained utterly unscathed. Shielded by a group of Deng clan personal guards, he had retreated to the river flats. Now he felt profoundly helpless, able to do nothing but watch as the Han army crumbled bit by bit.

At this juncture, Deng Yu could only lift his face to heaven and sigh.

"How laughable is Deng Yu — aping Han Xin's back-to-the-river gambit and failing, only to end up like the siege at Gaixia. It seems this place shall be my Wu River Pavilion! I have only failed the ten thousand soldiers dragged down with me, and shamed the generous treatment of His Majesty!"

With these words, Deng Yu drew his sword, intent on cutting his own throat to atone to his sovereign. His personal guards stopped him. Just then, someone found a piece of driftwood washed down from upstream. They pulled Deng Yu onto it and, just as the Wei soldiers reached the bank, pushed the driftwood into the Han River.

"Let go! Having suffered such a crushing defeat, what face have I left to see His Majesty again, or to meet the elders of Jiangdong?"

Several times Deng Yu tried to throw himself into the water to die, and each time his personal guards stopped him, holding him down firmly.

On the bank, the Han soldiers had all laid down their weapons and knelt in surrender. Those unwilling to surrender threw themselves into the muddy, surging Han River — some clinging to driftwood, some swimming with all their might. Some were dragged to the riverbed by their heavy armor; others took Wei arrows in the back and slowly sank.

There were also those who lost their strength halfway across and tried to grab onto the driftwood Deng Yu was on. His personal guards refused them one by one. One man forced his hand right up before Deng Yu — and before the Grand Chancellor could speak, his guard brought a sword down and severed the man's hand!

The severed fingers flew up, then fell into the water — to the benefit of some fish or turtle, who could say. The blood splashed onto Deng Yu's face. His eyes went wide, and a phrase suddenly surfaced in his mind:

"In the boat, fingers can be scooped up by the handful."

But for a moment he could not recall which year of the Zuo Tradition it came from — something that would have been impossible in the past. After this battle, Deng Yu's mind had been beaten numb.

By the time they fled downstream in panic and reached the eastern bank of the Han River, they turned back. In the distance, not a single flame banner remained, nor a single Han soldier still standing. Instead, the river was thick with floating corpses — a scene of utter devastation.

The captain of the personal guard gathered those who had followed them in flight, the Han soldiers nearby. Only twenty-four remained.

Together with Deng Yu, twenty-five in all.

Deng Yu had even lost his sword. The elegant young general was now a wretched sight, kneeling in the mud by the river, staring blankly at the place where he had single-handedly buried an army of ten thousand. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face numb, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

As Grand Chancellor, one of the Three Excellencies of Han, Deng Yu — who had risen meteorically all the way — had, in his twenty-fifth year, met the greatest defeat of his life.