Chapter 607: The Fourth Year of Wude

The battle for Pengcheng, which had dragged on for over a month, finally ended with the death of Lai Xi. Corpses lay buried in snow that reached the ankles, blood frozen solid into ice.

Standing in the shattered inner city, watching soldiers gather the dead, General Zhang Zong, the Conqueror of the East who had personally stormed the walls, gazed upon Lai Xi's ice-sculpted body and the Han soldiers fallen around him — men who had died shielding their commander or defending the blazing Han banners — and felt deeply moved.

"Since His Majesty raised his army, he has slain Wang Mang, swept Guanzhong, beheaded Liu Yan, entered Hedong, struck Shangdang, broken Hebei, killed Ziyu, battled Longyou, driven out Wei Ao, pacified the Red Eyebrows, and swallowed Qingzhou… In all those campaigns, the near ones took barely a month, the far ones no more than two seasons' toil. Almost none withstood a single clash — it was like clouds parting before a sweeping gale, leaving no lingering disaster behind."

"Only Liu Xiu is different. When our Wei armies fought him in Jing-Xiang and contended for supremacy north of the Huai, our theater commanders could not bring him down easily. It took the Son of Heaven himself leading the campaign in person to shake him. And Liu Xiu's commanders — Ma Wu, Liu Zhi, Lai Junshu, and their like — all gave their lives without regret, dying for their lord. This shows how deeply Liu Xiu has won men's hearts, and that the people of the southeast still yearn for the Han restoration. Eastern Wu is truly a stubborn foe of our dynasty — not to be taken lightly."

At these reflections from Zhang Zong, Left Chancellor Geng Chun, though he too held Lai Xi in esteem, shook his head and said, "So what? If one campaign cannot break them, and a second cannot finish them, a third expedition will surely destroy Wu! Has General Zhang noticed?"

Geng Chun pointed beyond the outer walls of Pengcheng. "On the main road leading to the front gate stand many stone stelae of local notables. Yet the stele of Xiang Ji, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, who once made Pengcheng his capital, is nowhere to be seen. Was he inferior to the Three Confucians of early Han, or to men like Gong Sheng? No — it is simply that a defeated man does not deserve to have his name carved in bronze and stone."

What he meant was: no matter how valiant Liu Xiu and his followers might be, they could not stop the rolling flood from the north, and in the end they would meet the same fate as Xiang Yu.

Zhang Zong nodded in agreement, but then smiled and asked in return, "Left Chancellor, if that is so, then how is it that we still know of Xiang Yu's deeds?"

Geng Chun paused, then burst into loud laughter.

"Well said."

"If you do not elevate Xiang Yu as the greatest of adversaries, how can you make plain that the Han founder's achievement was ordained by Heaven? By comparing him to Wei Bao, the Second Emperor of Qin, Zhao Gao, and that ilk?"

Geng Chun then issued an order.

"Have Lai Xi's body sealed and placed in a proper coffin with the rites of a general, to be kept safely until His Majesty decides its disposition."

…

"Great victory at Pengcheng! The inner city has fallen. Lai Junshu resisted to the last, and together with over two thousand of his personal guard, died fighting in the snow."

Barely two days later, flying riders delivered the victory dispatch from Pengcheng to the White Gate Tower in Xiapi. Yet amid the rejoicing of the Wei ruler and his ministers, one man's feelings were complicated — the Grand General of Chariots and Cavalry, Geng Yan.

The world said that before entering Huaibei, he had never known defeat. That was not quite accurate. Geng Yan had always blamed himself for a minor setback years ago, in a small battle in Guanzhong.

At that time, Liu Bosheng had led the Greenwood Army into the passes, and Diwu Lun had withdrawn north of the Wei River. Along the You Fufeng line, he had handed the defense over to Geng Yan. But though Geng Yan guarded against every possibility, he missed one Greenwood surprise force — the mounted infantry led by Lai Xi, who had executed a vast flanking maneuver and struck straight at Diwu Lun's deep rear!

Geng Yan had not taken it seriously at first, dispatching the Wei army's only cavalry at the time — the Elite Cavalry Camp — to intercept them. The result, as everyone knows.

After crushing Liu Bosheng, Geng Yan sought to mend the fold after the sheep were lost, petitioning Diwu Lun to let him pursue Lai Xi, who was still marauding north of the Wei. But this Lai Junshu was extraordinarily good at running — he fled all the way to Beidi in one breath and slipped into Longxi, leaving Geng Yan to return empty-handed.

From that time on, no matter how great his achievements or how high his rank, Geng Yan never forgot Lai Xi, nor the shame Lai Xi had brought him. When he learned that Lai Xi had been promoted to "Grand Marshal of Han," Geng Yan had even been delighted for a time: "A Grand Marshal of the false Han — now that is a foe worthy of the Wei Grand General of Chariots and Cavalry."

Last year, when he swept through Qingzhou and Haidai and was ordered south into Xu-Huai, Geng Yan heard that the very man defending Huaibei was Lai Xi, and his delight grew. He saw it as a fine chance to settle old scores, and had even imagined the scene: himself and Lai Xi setting out wine before the battle lines and agreeing to a duel.

Regrettably, things went against his wishes. Diwu Lun had not even let him go near Pengcheng. Though he could not fight Lai Xi, crushing Lai Xi's sovereign directly was not a bad alternative.

Who could have guessed that the army's sharp edge would be blunted, and that Xiapi would be the limit of his advance? Ahead, Liu Xiu had slipped away; behind, he now learned that Lai Xi was dead.

Geng Yan felt like a hunter who had perfected his archery, arriving at the nest of the great wild goose that had once pecked out his eye, waiting for it to spread its wings and soar so he could shoot it down with a single arrow — only to find it already someone else's prey, lying limp in the snow, long dead, its feathers being plucked and flesh carved away. And in this hunt, he himself had gained nothing. All that remained in his heart was a hollow sense of loss.

Perhaps it was these tangled emotions at work. Last month, though his old wounds had flared up again, Geng Yan had still been able to persist in inspecting the camps and making deployments. Yet on the very day he learned of Lai Xi's death, his condition took a sharp turn for the worse.

Fever, fatigue, headache, dizziness, chills, nausea — every symptom erupted at once. Even in such physical distress, Geng Yan still forced himself to labor over official documents. Now that Pengcheng had fallen, the sixty-thousand-strong army in the north was freed up. Geng Yan drew up a plan of advance and wished to present it to Diwu Lun.

But just as Geng Yan reached the White Gate Tower, stepped before the Emperor, and was about to offer his strategy, a sudden violent dizziness struck him.

Before the assembled officers of the three armies, Geng Yan — who for so many years had stood proud and erect like a pine or cypress — pitched forward and collapsed at Diwu Lun's feet!

…

For Geng Yan, news of his great foe's death brought only tangled, inexpressible feelings. But days later, when Han scouts delivered the same news to the Han Emperor, who was at the Huai-Si confluence feeding horses and sharpening weapons in preparation for a northern advance, Liu Xiu's heart held nothing but grief.

"Impossible."

Liu Xiu's first reaction was to refuse to accept the truth — just as he had years ago, when he learned that his invincible elder brother had fallen in battle. But as a second wave of reports came in, the fall of Pengcheng became an irrefutable fact. Even then, Liu Xiu still hoped that Lai Xi had merely been captured…

Yet he knew Lai Xi's character — that unwavering fidelity to his word — all too well. Lai Xi would not surrender. For the sake of a promise, he would fight to the very last moment of his life!

Liu Xiu ultimately accepted the truth and personally presided over the funeral rites. This was the third time in half a year that Liu Xiu had donned mourning garments for a minister — his wife's brother Ma Wu, his clansman Liu Zhi. But the closeness he felt to those two, even combined, could not match that with his cousin Lai Xi.

Liu Xiu could still remember visiting his aunt's home with his elder brother as a child. Young Lai Xi, whom they had never met before, became an instant friend. Soon they were playing, brandishing wooden swords and bamboo horses. As they grew a little older, the two often traveled Nanyang together. Lai Xi loved to right wrongs and champion the bullied; Liu Xiu's job was to go fetch reinforcements, and every time, just before Lai Xi fell into real danger, he would come charging back with acquaintances of his brother's to snatch victory from defeat.

"But this time, We could not relieve Pengcheng in time."

Facing Lai Xi's coffin, Liu Xiu silently reproached himself through tears: "Junshu kept faith and was loyal to the end. But Liu Xiu has broken faith."

Lai Xi was like Weisheng, who clung to the pillar and refused to let go even as the floodwaters surged around him. And Liu Xiu — Liu Xiu could not even make it to the place where they had agreed to meet…

He dried his tears and issued an edict: "The Grand Marshal Lai Xi fought campaign after campaign for years, pacified the Red Eyebrows, worried for the state and forgot his own family — his loyalty and filial duty shone bright. Now at Pengcheng he has met his fate and perished. Alas, lamentation!"

"Posthumously confer upon Lai Xi the seal and cord of the King of Chu, with the posthumous name 'Jingjie.' We Ourselves shall oversee the funeral affairs!"

Liu Xiu was not alone in his grief. Unlike Liu Zhi, who had few friends before his death, Lai Xi had many old companions, especially within the Nanyang faction, where he was tacitly regarded as their leader. For a time, the officers at the Huai-Si confluence were seething with righteous fury, all petitioning Liu Xiu to raise the mourning army and immediately march north.

"First strike Xiapi, capture Diwu Lun, then break Pengcheng to seal King Lai's body in state — and avenge our fallen soldiers!"

The officers were not merely speaking in passion; they truly had the impulse. The Han main force in Huaibei still numbered over forty thousand. During the coldest two ten-day periods of winter, they had rested and reorganized at the Huai-Si confluence, and their discipline and morale were still decent. They had heard that the Wei army had attacked Pengcheng through bitter cold, and that the Wei troops at Xiapi were also quite worn down from being unaccustomed to the climate.

Now early spring had arrived, and the heavy snows that plagued the southern soldiers had ceased. Though Pengcheng was lost and they could no longer coordinate an internal-external strike, the time had come to launch a counteroffensive and drive Diwu Lun out of Huaibei!

Yet faced with the generals' pleas for battle, Liu Xiu — the man who most wanted to avenge Lai Xi — closed his eyes and said nothing.

Liu Xiu had also reflected on this war, but what came to mind was not "if only we had marched north a few days earlier." He knew full well that even if they went now, in a major pitched battle they would not necessarily be a match for the Wei army.

Instead, he had a sudden awakening: "In seeking to hold Huaibei this time, We have lost Junshu, Liu Zhi, and the lives of over ten thousand soldiers — it was already a blunder. And We were too obstinate in trusting Our own generalship. Yet after all Our repeated maneuvering, We won only two small battles, which did nothing to alter the larger situation. Thinking back, the best course would have been to heed good counsel early and abandon the land to preserve the people!"

"From this day forward, We must never take a single wrong step again."

At last, Liu Xiu opened his eyes, and spoke just one line.

"The blood debt of Pengcheng — We shall surely repay it!"

"But the time to cross the river at Maojin and seal the corpses at the Yao Gorge is not yet."

Liu Xiu was alluding to a Spring and Autumn tale: Duke Mu of Qin sent troops east, and the Jin people annihilated them at the Yao Gorge, sending only three generals back alive. From then on, Qin bore a deep grudge against Jin and sent armies to retaliate several times, but failed again and again. They endured humiliation and nursed their strength for nearly ten years. Only then did they cross the river and burn their boats, fighting with united purpose until the Jin army dared not strike back. Then they crossed at Maojin, sealed the Yao corpses, and returned — and so Qin became hegemon over the Western Rong.

Liu Xiu understood clearly: with the fall of Pengcheng, the moment for a counteroffensive was gone. To keep forcing the issue would only bring greater and greater sacrifice. After all these harsh lessons, he could only mend the fold after the sheep were lost.

"Mobilize the boat troops. Evacuate all soldiers and civilians from the Huai-Si confluence, Daze Township, Sishui Commandery, and the other regions south to Huainan, to lure Diwu Lun into continuing south!"

…

In the first ten days of the first month, within the city of Xiapi, Geng Yan had been lying on his sickbed for nearly a full ten-day period. The physicians kept forbidding him to go out, insisting that "even a general must be isolated when ill," so there was no talk of commanding troops or marching.

This was delaying military operations — but it was the Emperor's command, and Geng Yan could not defy it. So Geng Yan, convinced he was not seriously ill, stewed in silent frustration and even refused to take his medicine.

"I won't drink it."

Once again, he turned his back in indignation, pointedly ignoring the medicine bowl brought to his side — but his younger brother Geng Shu quickly reminded him, "Elder Brother, His Majesty has come in person!"

Geng Yan started in alarm and turned his head — there stood Diwu Lun, medicine bowl in one hand and a dosing spoon in the other, smiling as he stood watching.

He hurriedly made to climb off the couch and salute, but Diwu Lun stopped him. "General, your illness is not yet healed — no need for such ceremony."

Diwu Lun raised the little spoon in his hand and smiled. "Would the General prefer that We feed you personally, or…"

"Your servant will drink it. I'll drink it right now."

Geng Yan had no choice but to take the bowl and gulp it down in great swallows. He was a man of iron fortitude — at the battle of Linzi, an arrow pierced his thigh and he never made a sound, so that only after the fighting did his men discover it. Yet now, as the medicinal brew slid down his throat, a look of agony crossed his face. It truly was vile beyond compare, numbing his tongue until it felt thick and clumsy. Word had it the prescription was equal parts angelica, sweet flag, asarum, ginger, cinnamon, and Sichuan pepper — Sichuan pepper being the tongue-numbing prickly ash. How could it not numb?

After draining it, Geng Yan thumped his chest and declared himself fully recovered, yet the dull ache in his back still plagued him. Still, compared to the fierce head and neck pain and the chills that had nearly killed him when the illness struck, he was far better off. He had to admit the medicine did have some effect.

"General, you were struck suddenly by a pernicious wind pathogen. You must rest and recuperate for several days more." Diwu Lun once again refused Geng Yan's entreaty, and at the same time brought up the military plan Geng Yan had submitted.

This young Geng still hadn't learned his lesson. Geng Yan believed that, with Pengcheng now free of any threat from the rear, the Wei army could be split into eastern and western columns to drive south, sweeping across Huaibei in a single stroke and catching Liu Xiu off guard. Then the supply fleet could assist, ferrying his picked troops across the Huai River to wreak havoc in Liu Xiu's rear, forcing Liu Xiu to keep fleeing south until he bolted all the way to Jiangdong.

Geng Yan volunteered for the command: "If Liu Xiu means to emulate Xiang Yu, then let us settle the matter once and for all in Huainan!"

That had been the Han army's strategy during the Chu–Han Contention. After Xiang Yu was defeated at Gaixia, the Han pursuit was so relentless that he never got a chance to establish himself in Huainan, fleeing in one breath all the way to Wujiang Pavilion.

Fine — at least Geng Yan hadn't been so wildly arrogant as to propose forcing a crossing of the Yangtze and extinguishing Wu in a single blow.

Diwu Lun therefore said, "That time and this time are not the same. I do not have a force of troops like the Han-era King of Jiujiang, Ying Bu, or the King of Jing, Liu Jia, who advanced from Nanyang and Runan into Huainan, luring the Chu garrisons to surrender and cutting off Xiang Yu's retreat, so that the enemy was beset front and rear. As things stand now, I fear we cannot press Huainan in haste."

Cen Peng's side had only just put down the rebellion of Deng Feng and Jia Fu in the Danyang region, driving the two of them into Hanzhong to seek refuge with Gongsun Shu. So although the Wan–Xiang garrison was numerous, it was too far away to influence the great battle in Xu and Huai.

Geng Yan was still unwilling to let it go. "Even if we do not strike Huainan, we should still dispatch light cavalry south to the Huai–Si confluence. Do not let Liu Xiu calmly ferry his troops, civilians, goods, and grain stores all across to the south."

Diwu Lun had already received intelligence that Liu Xiu was beginning to withdraw his army toward Huainan, yet he still shook his head. These past few days, with Geng Yan lying ill in bed, Diwu Lun had taken back all his authority so he could rest quietly. The Grand General of Chariots and Cavalry therefore did not know just how grave the situation had become.

"Our great enemy is no longer Liu Xiu."

Diwu Lun rose and gazed out at the Huai and Si waters in the late spring chill. The new foe could not be seen or touched, yet it was enough to make men turn pale at the mere mention of it.

"The army physicians have confirmed it. The illness afflicting the General, and the vicious disease spreading through the camps at Xiapi and elsewhere that has laid tens of thousands of soldiers low — is none other than Cold Damage!"