Chapter 654: Having Gained Long, One Looks Toward Shu

When the fighting in Hexi and Bing Province came to a temporary halt, let us turn our gaze back to Longnan. Since autumn, Wudu Commandery had been in utter chaos.

First, Wei Ao failed to take Qishan Fort. Then the various Baima Di tribes of Wudu turned against Shu and went over to Wei, causing a tremendous uproar! Wei Ao could only fall back to the commandery seat, caught between the Longyou Wei army and the Di tribes, his position growing perilous.

Yet as winter set in, the situation reversed: the Wudu Di people truly lacked the makings of great achievers. Each group cared only about plundering counties and villages and seizing territory, failing to coordinate quickly with the Wei army to encircle Wei Ao. When the rebel-suppression troops sent by Gongsun Shu entered Wudu along the Jialing River gorge, the Di soldiers — loosely organized and poorly equipped to begin with — began to crumble. The Baima Di chieftain Qi Zhongliu was routed all the way, retreating only as far as Qiuchi Mountain to take refuge.

Qiuchi Mountain happened to sit right in the middle reaches of the Western Han River, and it was the commanding height for a hundred li in every direction: find a spot with an open view and look out, and you would see a vast, gently sloping mountain ridge stretching level across the horizon.

But gazing at a mountain can run a horse to death — trying to get close to Qiuchi Mountain would exhaust not just horses but men as well. The Shu troops had to crisscross the Western Han River gorge repeatedly, pick their way across treacherous rocky shoals, and then climb perilous, winding mountain paths. A distance of fifty li took five days to cover before they could even reach the foot of Qiuchi Mountain.

Looking up, the mountain rose about two li high, its cliffs sheer and towering a thousand ren, shaped somewhat like a trapezoid. As the slope climbed, the scenery at the summit suddenly changed — though not as flat and smooth as the loess plateaus of Guanzhong, it could still be called level.

Even in the dead of winter, the trees on the mountain remained lush and green. The Yang clan Di people had made their home here, their villages scattered sparsely among the locust tree groves — it was said there were seven hundred households in all.

Although the Yang clan Di were kin and sworn brothers to the Baima Di, with over ten thousand people suddenly flooding in, even finding a place to set foot became cramped. Most of the Baima Di could only build crude lean-tos in the forests on the mountainside to live in.

But the Baima Di chieftain Qi Zhongliu was not worried. He said to the Yang clan Di with considerable optimism, "Kinsmen, this Qiuchi of yours still has a thousand qing of terraced fields, cattle and sheep roaming the wilds, and I hear you can even boil the earth to make salt. As long as we endure this winter, come next year, the Wei Emperor will surely send troops from Chang'an to rescue us."

After all, he had also received the seal and cord of the State of Wei — he was now the dignified "Earl of the Baima Di."

Right now, the Shu army had come to reinforce from the south but was blocked by Qiuchi Mountain, not daring to bypass it and push north. And a hundred li north of Qiuchi Mountain lay the Wudu commandery seat, where Wei Ao was also trapped by the Protector of the Qiang Colonel Niu Han, his supplies and arrows exhausted. It all came down to who could hold out!

Qi Zhongliu believed victory would surely be theirs. Though the Baima Di had been defeated by the Shu army, the many large and small Di tribes across Wudu who had joined his uprising were everywhere. As long as they hid in the mountain forests and launched harassing raids, they could give the Shu army more than enough trouble. And once the State of Wei seized Wudu, it would not have enough men to garrison it either. When that time came, they would have no choice but to rely heavily on the various Di tribes. The Di people, suppressed by the Han and Qiang for two hundred years, might then truly become the masters of Wudu.

The good days were still ahead!

Yet Qi Zhongliu was far too optimistic. A few days later, when the Shu vanguard reached the slopes of Qiuchi Mountain, he was stunned to discover that those "allies" who just months ago had slaughtered oxen and smeared its blood on their lips with him, swearing to stand together through life and death, had now gone back to the Shu army and become guides!

They sided with whoever was winning! At the very least, here in the territory of Wudu, it seemed the Shu army still held the upper hand for now.

With Di soldiers skilled in mountain warfare joining them, the Shu army's assault on Qiuchi Mountain went far more smoothly. The Baima Di and Yang clan Di could only rely on the mountain ridge, holding the narrow passes and defiles to fight them off. As casualties mounted, even the Yang clan Di began to consider: should they cast aside their ties of kinship and brotherhood and sell out Qi Zhongliu and the Baima Di?

But on the day of the new moon in the twelfth month, the Shu army's camp at the foot of Qiuchi Mountain suddenly caught fire. When the several thousand Shu troops fiercely assaulting the ridge rushed back to help, they encountered only a single unit of fierce, fearless enemies. Their leader had a handsome beard, phoenix eyes, and wore no heavy armor — only a wrap of horsehide leather. Wielding a long saber, he led a group of soldiers who had come through bitter wind, frost, and dew, blades forward, into the fray.

The Shu army assumed these were Di soldiers who had not yet submitted, but their combat strength was on an entirely different level. Looking more closely at their dirt-stained uniforms and banners, they realized — this was actually a Wei army!

The Wei army had penetrated deep into the heart of Wudu?

The Shu troops' morale wavered. They could strike the Di people with heavy fists, but toward the Wei army, whom they had never defeated, they felt dread in their hearts. For a time, they fell back step by step.

The Baima Di and Yang clan Di on Qiuchi Mountain also seized the moment to charge down and hammer the routed troops. The battle quickly became one-sided. In the end, the handsome-bearded leader of the Wei army spurred his horse, saber in hand, and cut down a Shu deputy general in formation. He released the second deputy, speaking in an authentic Guanzhong accent, telling him to go back and give his regards to his good friend Gongsun Shu.

"Tell Gongsun Ziyang: Wudu belongs to the Longnan territory of Liang Province. I do not know why it was assigned to Yizhou, but Ma Yuan has taken it back! My lord has said, 'Having gained Long, one looks toward Shu.' Standing atop this Qiuchi Mountain, Ma Yuan shall gaze south, straight toward the outer walls of Chengdu!"

Qi Zhongliu was a Di man with aspirations. He not only understood Han speech but had also read some Han books. When he heard that this was none other than the Wei Grand General of the Agile Cavalry, Ma Yuan, he was shaken to the core.

He and the chieftain of the Yang clan Di alone crossed the corpse-strewn battlefield to pay their respects to Ma Yuan.

"Is General Ma not among the Western Qiang? Why has he suddenly appeared at Qiuchi Mountain in Wudu?"

Ma Yuan was wiping blood from his blade. His phoenix eyes swept over the two men as he reversed his grip and slid the ring-pommel saber back into its scabbard — all in one fluid motion. He laughed and said, "We pursued the Xianlian Qiang to Mount Jishi at the source of the great river, then crossed southward and subdued the various Qiang of Fuhan and Daxia. The Qiang chieftains gifted us three thousand horses and a great deal of dried meat and provisions. Hearing that the Wudu Di tribes had switched sides, we continued south, descending along the Di-Qiang Road, fighting our way all the way into Wudu."

Qi Zhongliu and the others were deeply shaken. The so-called "Di-Qiang Road" was the highland meadow west of Wudu Commandery — territory that had always belonged to the various Qiang. The mountains were high, the climate frigid, and settlements for resupply were few. Apart from the cold-resistant Qiang horses, even Central Plains horses could not adapt there. Even at the height of the Han dynasty's power, Central Plains armies had not dared to pass through rashly — yet Ma Yuan had crossed it safely?

And looking at those travel-worn Longyou soldiers, their bodies covered in chilblains yet still able to fight fiercely at Ma Yuan's side — Ma Yuan himself had shed his armor and wore horsehide instead. Though plainly attired, he carried an immense presence in his easy talk and laughter, as if the past ten days and month had been nothing more than a leisurely long journey...

The schemes Qi Zhongliu had harbored in his heart — to use the Wei and Shu armies to fight each other like dogs so he could expand his own local power — shrank back a little. He could only say with awe:

"Lord Ma has descended like a god — truly a 'Heavenly General'!"

In the twelfth month, though heavy snow had not yet fallen on Wudu Commandery, it was still bitterly cold. This was especially true in the besieged Wudu commandery seat, where clothing and food were scarce. Even Wei Ao could find no firewood to burn. He had fallen ill, weary and freezing. His trusted aides asked whether they should break apart the soldiers' spear and halberd shafts to use as fuel.

"It is bad enough that our arrows are exhausted — if we dismantle the long weapons too, when the Wei army attacks the city again, are we to have the soldiers fight with just spearheads on short hafts?"

Wei Ao could only cough and sigh. He gave up on making a fire. He could only choke down dry, rock-hard travel rations with icy cold water — there was no describing how wretched it was.

His main force had been buried at Qishan Fort. Only three thousand men remained, trapped here for months by the Wei State's Commandant of the Guard Diwu Biao and the Protector of the Qiang Colonel Niu Han. He could only pin his hopes on relief from Shu.

Yet what drove Wei Ao to despair was that what he waited for was not the White Emperor's banners, but the five-colored flags of the Wei army...

Ma Yuan, launching a surprise attack from the Di-Qiang Road into the heart of Wudu, had smashed Gongsun Shu's relief force, then brought the Baima Di north to join the siege against Wei Ao. Now Wei Jimeng truly had no way out!

He at least still had bean cakes to eat, but the soldiers in the city, lacking fuel, could not even get thin gruel. Many had gone days without food, able only to huddle beneath the city walls. Sometimes a comrade would give one a push, only to find he had been dead for some time.

At this rate, before the winter cold could drive the Wei army and Di people away, Wei Ao himself would be the first to collapse.

To make matters worse, as night fell that day, songs suddenly rose up outside the city of Wudu.

Sung in a thick Longyou dialect, it was the Han-era folk song "The Longxi Ballad."

"What is there in the heavens above? Row upon row of white elms are planted.

Cassia trees line the path, a green dragon faces the road's corner."

The voices gradually swelled, the Wei camps south and north of the city all singing:

"The phoenix calls chirp-chirp, one mother leads her nine chicks.

Gazing upon the people of the world, what joy is so uniquely splendid..."

Most of Wei Ao's followers were Longyou men. Hearing this song, they could not help but think of the vast, open lands of Longyou, the small but sturdy walled towns, and that familiar native soil. Though they were in Wudu, separated only by the Qinling Mountains and Mount Qi, they did not want to spend a single extra day in this cursed place!

"This is the stratagem of Chu songs on all four sides."

Wei Ao smiled bitterly. "South and north of the city, all we hear are Long voices. It seems there are many Longyou men in the Wei army as well. After the campaign against the Western Qiang, the scholars and commoners of Longzhong have contentedly pledged allegiance to the Wei sovereign."

And he had himself to thank for that. Wei Ao had always prided himself on being the spokesman for the interests of the Longyou people — now he was besieged by the elders and kin of his own homeland. How tragic.

Though the stratagem was not new, it was truly effective. The exhausted, weary, trapped soldiers grew restless in spirit. If Wei Ao did not act soon, a great mutiny was imminent!

Even Wei Ao's trusted aides tearfully urged him: "Lord Wei, it is clear Wudu will fall. Even if we can break through and return to Shu, Gongsun Shu will surely lay the blame on you. Thinking back now to what Niu Han wrote in his letter months ago — Lord Wei and the Wei sovereign are old acquaintances, with no great enmity or deep grudge between you. If you can have Niu Han introduce your surrender now, even if not a princely rank, Diwu Lun will at least grant you an earl's or viscount's title to win over other defectors from Shu, allowing you to live out your remaining years in peace."

Wei Ao did not answer. He only listened to the "Long songs on all sides" outside, his fingers lightly tapping the rhythm, and began to sing a Longdi ballad himself.

"The road is cut off, arrows and blades are shattered; the soldiers are destroyed, and my name is already ruined..."

This was the "Song of Farewell" that Li Ling, the Han general who surrendered to the Xiongnu, sang when he saw Su Wu off on his return to the Central Plains. After that, although the Li family's name rotted to the core in Longyou, this song had made its way back.

Wei Ao's stance remained unchanged. He sighed with sorrow: "A true man, if he cannot achieve a heroic name in life, yet instead colludes with barbarians, Rong, and Di to invade his own homeland — such a man as I has no face left to return to his native soil. Better to die in a foreign land. As for bending at the waist and kowtowing toward Chang'an? Even if Diwu Lun, mindful of our past friendship, were magnanimous and merciful enough not to pursue and execute me, would Wei Ao still have the face to accept his grace, to be subjected to the whims of petty clerks who watch his every expression and toy with their documents, humiliating him at will?"

"Wei Ao has accomplished nothing in this life, misstepping at every turn. That is disgrace enough — let there be no further disgrace!"

By now, Wei Ao knew what he had to do to preserve his last shred of dignity. He gestured weakly for his trusted aides to leave. Knowing the outcome in their hearts, they could only close the door behind them, tears in their eyes.

The clamor outside grew louder and louder. The old Longyou troops had followed Wei Ao for so many years and gained nothing. Having drifted to this point, their discontent with him had built to overflowing. A mutiny was imminent!

Yet when the furious Longyou soldiers pushed aside Wei Ao's trusted aides, who had fought desperately to hold them back, and burst into the commandery office's main hall, they saw only the tall figure of Wei Jimeng sitting composedly on the mat, his body leaning against the wall behind him, his gaze passing over them toward the north. But his eyes were already dull and lifeless. A short sword was buried in his chest — he had taken his own life long before.

Half a shichen later, Protector of the Qiang Colonel Niu Han entered the commandery seat. Apart from Wei Ao's already cold corpse, all he found was an old friend's farewell letter.

"Alas, Ruqing — what more is there to say?"

"We have known each other thirty years. In life we became men of separate worlds; in death we shall be ghosts in foreign lands — forever parted from you, my friend, in life and death. In former days Wei Ao eagerly rose against the Xin, binding sixteen families of Long in a blood oath, fancying myself a hero of the province, even hoping to match the hegemonic deeds of Duke Mu of Qin. Yet Wei Ao was never one to achieve great things — wavering and turning back, I became a dog who has lost his master, and so have come to this day's straits. Looking back, even clinging to the tail of the Wei Emperor's steed proved too hard. Only death remains, to take my leave of old friends and native soil."

"Ruqing, do not let it weigh on your heart. Strive on, cherish yourself, serve your sage sovereign well — I ask only that you treat Longyou kindly! Thus may my wrongs be mended!"

Niu Han's hand trembled faintly as he finished reading Wei Ao's last wish:

"The nomad horse still leans into the northern wind; not a day has Wei Ao passed without longing for Longyou. I know my crimes are great and beyond pardon. I do not ask to be buried whole in Long soil — only that my head be hung at Tianshui. This too is the fox dying with its head toward its den!"

This was the only way he could return home.

Niu Han stepped forward, studying Wei Ao's dead features for a long while. Only then did he draw his blade and, clean and swift, cut off his old friend's head. Then, clutching him tightly, he walked out of the hall. Black clotted blood dripped steadily onto the ground. Niu Han raised his head, gazing at the bleak white snow swirling through the sky, and sighed:

"Jimeng, I am bringing you home…"