Chapter 666: Repayment

Having lost the Maming Gallery Road and the strategic heights of Mount Dingjun, with Wei forces pressing from both north and south, Jing Han knew Yangping Pass could no longer be held, so he retreated east to Mianyang City (present-day Mian County, Hanzhong) — only to be overtaken by Ma Yuan right before the city walls.

Seeing the two armies were roughly equal in number, Jing Han steeled himself to give battle. But the Shu troops, demoralized after losing key strongholds one after another, had not even finished forming their ranks before the Wei army's Longyou soldiers charged first and routed them utterly.

Jing Han fought his way out of the chaos and could only keep retreating eastward. Fifty or sixty li east of Mianyang lay Nanzheng, the capital of the "Hanzhong Commandery" established by the Cheng regime. A famous city since the Warring States period, the very place from which Emperor Gaozu Liu Bang launched his counterattack to reclaim the Three Qin lands — Nanzheng's sprawling walls and formidable fortifications were beyond anything little Mianyang could match. Perhaps he could hold out here for a month or so, until reinforcements arrived via the Micang Road...

But when Jing Han, after great difficulty, fled to the foot of Nanzheng's walls with his trusted followers and looked up, he was so enraged that he spat out a mouthful of old blood!

For atop the walls of Nanzheng already flew the Five Virtues banners. A Wei raiding force had come south from Guanzhong via the Baoxie Road, passing through Ji Valley. Though few in number, their timing was impeccable — arriving just as Yangping Pass and Mianyang fell in catastrophic defeat. After the routed soldiers fled back, Nanzheng was thrown into panic, and when they saw Wei troops already beneath the walls, the Cheng regime's Governor of Hanzhong was so terrified of surrendering too late that he simply opened the gates and defected! A tiny Wei detachment of barely a thousand men had taken a renowned commandery seat without shedding a drop of blood.

"South!" Jing Han immediately wheeled his horse around. At this point, the three commanderies of Hanzhong would only repeat this pattern of rout and surrender without a fight. The only place left to go was the Micang Road!

From Ba-Shu to Hanzhong, since ancient times there have been only three routes: the westernmost is the famous "Jinniu Road," running from Chengdu in Shu Commandery through the Greater and Lesser Sword Mountains, Jiameng Pass, and out via Baishui Pass to Wudu Commandery. Though lined with natural barriers and great defiles, it is the most convenient of the three, the one most traveled by merchants and armies.

The easternmost is the "Badong Road," which crosses the Daba Mountains and connects Jiangzhou in Ba Commandery with Xicheng (present-day Ankang, Hanzhong).

The middle one is the Micang Road, right beside Nanzheng, passing through the Micang Mountains and linking to Bazhong. Though not a major thoroughfare, it is in fact a vital crossing point, and with the Jinniu Road cut off by Wei forces, it had practically become the Shu army's lifeline.

After successive defeats, Jing Han now had barely a handful of attendants left. The flat basins of the Hanzhong plain gradually fell away behind them as they began entering the Micang Mountains. The road grew rugged, the mountains blocked the light, and the surroundings darkened. With pursuers still behind him and his mind fixed on reaching the Micang Road to warn the reinforcements, to have them hold Bazhong in place and prevent the Wei army from surging into Ba, he ignored the treacherous path and kept his horse at a rapid pace...

Yet on a narrow defile hemmed in by gorges, the riders ahead of him suddenly toppled one after another, men and horses thrown to the ground — tripped by thin vines!

Jing Han was right behind them and reined in frantically. His startled horse reared with a scream, throwing him onto the roadside.

And just as Jing Han lay there, dazed and battered, he saw countless "bandits" swarming out from the ridges on both sides. Clad in hide armor, their hair knotted in topknots, their clothing crude, they carried standard-issue Wei weapons and let out whooping cries, speaking a language hard to understand.

But this language was not unfamiliar to Jing Han.

"Wudu Di soldiers!"

"As expected of Deputy Colonel Yun. After taking Mianyang, instead of joining Colonel Qi to join the excitement at Nanzheng, he brought us to set an ambush on this little trail. A forced march of a hundred li, then crouching here for half the day — and sure enough, we've caught the Shu routed troops. This man might even be a Shu general."

When Jing Han regained consciousness, all he heard were the Di soldiers, dragging him like a corpse, talking among themselves in this way.

He had been wounded in the fighting — an arrow in the thigh, a heavy blow to the forehead from a blunt weapon. His head still throbbed with a dull, dizzying pain; he could barely tell east from west, north from south. He only knew it was night, and he was being dragged up a slope. Even through his armor, the stones jabbed painfully into his ribs!

At the top of the earthen slope was a small patch of level ground halfway up the mountain — a temporary camp for the Wei army's Wudu Di soldiers. Beneath a wild locust tree with dense, flourishing branches and leaves, a crude lean-to had been set up.

A young man in the robes of a Wei army Colonel waited there. The starlight and moonlight were blocked by the thickets, and the torchlight was dim; Jing Han could not make out his features. He only knew this man held considerable prestige among the Di soldiers. With a single wave of his hand, the man dismissed the others: "Leave us for now. I will interrogate this wretch myself!"

After the skirmish, the Di soldiers were happy to go warm themselves by the fire and rest. They tied Jing Han to the tree and left. Once they were far off, the Wei Colonel drew close to Jing Han, stared at him long and hard, and after a long pause, said one thing...

"Nearly ten years since we last met, Lord Jing. You've aged a great deal. Your skills are nothing like they were back then."

Jing Han jerked his head up. No wonder the voice was so familiar — the man before him was none other than A-Yun, the very man he had personally selected and dispatched to Longyou to assassinate Wei generals!

"A-Yun, you are not dead?" Jing Han was both shocked and suspicious.

"Gongsun death-sworn A-Yun, pays his respects to Lord Jing." A-Yun's hands made a gesture of salute, a glint like tears flickering in his eyes. "After failing to assassinate Wan Xiu nine years ago, A-Yun drifted across the State of Wei, hiding until now... Some days ago, outside Yangping Pass, I saw Lord Jing's banner — the dagger revealed, the map unrolled. But Ma Yuan is not easy to assassinate either. Before A-Yun could find an opening, Mount Dingjun and Maming Gallery Road had already fallen, and Mianyang could not hold. I reckoned that if Lord Jing survived, he would surely take the Micang Road south, so I rushed here to receive you — and indeed, here you are."

But Jing Han felt not the slightest joy. Since A-Yun was Deputy Colonel of the Di troops, he must have been among the Wei forces that attacked Mount Dingjun. Though contact between them had been severed, if A-Yun still cherished their old bond and his loyalty to Emperor Gongsun, if he valued the survival of the Cheng regime above his own life, then even if he could find no chance to assassinate Ma Yuan, he would surely have found some way to send word — or at least gone easy during Jing Han's assault on Mount Dingjun...

But there had been nothing. Jing Han could place no trust in this man, once one of his finest "Gongsun death-sworn." He merely looked down at the ropes binding him tightly and said in a low voice: "Is this your repayment?"

"Lord Jing misunderstands me." A-Yun lowered his head. "Twenty years ago, A-Yun was sold as a slave in Chengdu, a child of a defeated tribe. Had Lord Jing and Emperor Gongsun not rescued me, I would long ago have died of exhaustion on some estate. Lord Jing taught A-Yun to read and to fight. Emperor Gongsun is my sovereign, and Lord Jing treated me like a father! I will release Lord Jing right now."

As he spoke, he actually stepped forward and began untying Jing Han. But Jing Han noticed that A-Yun — whose hands, back when he shot birds with a crossbow, could hold it perfectly steady — was now, at this very moment, trembling. Like a seventy-year-old crone, he shook so badly that even untying a single knot took an age...

A-Yun noticed this too. He stopped his movements, looked down at his faintly quivering palms, and murmured: "A-Yun will never forget what Lord Jing said when he sent me north."

"Lord Jing said: The world today much resembles the Warring States period. Emperor Gongsun needs brave men to take up the sharp swords of Shu, aim them at the Wei generals, blunt their edge and break their spirit, deal them fatal blows, and hold them to account for their failings. This will surely throw the Wei armies into chaos, with high and low deceiving one another. Then, when we send forth the royal army's light, elite troops in their wake, Wei will certainly be defeated."

He began talking to himself: "Back then, A-Yun believed it. I was willing to use this mere seven-foot body to repay Lord Jing's kindness, to bring Emperor Gongsun victory. But after hiding in the State of Wei for nine years, A-Yun now feels that Lord Jing's words back then were wrong."

"Even if we managed to assassinate one or two generals by luck, could that truly reverse the outcome between Wei and Cheng?"

"No." A-Yun shook his head. "I have watched for nine years, and I understand now. Wei's strength lies not in its ministers or people, but in its sovereign. Emperor Diwu is a hero, his mind full of strategy, knowing when to wage war and when to rest. Men like Wan Xiu and Ma Yuan may be famous generals, but even if both died one after another, Emperor Diwu could still replace them with Wu Han or Geng Bozhao, and send an unending stream of soldiers and grain!"

"After much thought, I believe there is only one way to truly serve Emperor Gongsun, to save the Cheng regime from being destroyed by Wei."

"And that is to assassinate Diwu Lun directly!"

A blazing fire burned in A-Yun's eyes. Though he kept his voice low, Jing Han could still hear his agitation. Yet as the assassin-trainer who had personally molded A-Yun, Jing Han's heart grew colder and colder.

The one thing a dagger must never do is develop a mind of its own! A-Yun had been away from Chengdu too long, had wandered too far!

A-Yun, however, seemed unaware of this, still lost in his new plan: "Lord Jing, do you remember the story you once told us? Of how Jing Ke, bearing a dagger, entered the unfathomably dangerous Qin, how the King of Qin was thrown into panic, his guards frozen in terror?"

"But for Yan to make Jing Ke trustworthy in Qin's eyes, so that the dagger could finally be revealed from the map, they had to pay an enormous price. As a descendant of Jing Ke, Lord Jing surely knows what that was!"

Jing Han understood. He was struck speechless for a moment. "The head of General Fan Yuqi!"

He looked A-Yun up and down and gave a cold laugh. "Do you also wish to borrow my head?"

"Indeed. It is also a matter of necessity. Lord Jing's leg is wounded. Even if A-Yun released you, you would not get far."

A-Yun hung his head in shame. "Though I am now a Deputy Colonel, recommended by Wu Han and Wan Xiu, I am still a nobody. It is hard even to get an audience with Ma Yuan, let alone the Wei Emperor. But because of the battle at Mount Dingjun, I was already in line for a title, perhaps a barony. If today I also present Lord Jing's head, I might even leap to viscount and earn a summons to the capital to receive the fief!"

He described the coming victory to Jing Han: "Then I would have my chance to strike at Diwu Lun. With my left hand I would seize his sleeve, with my right I would plunge the blade into his chest. Lord Jing's hatred would be avenged, and the mortal peril facing the Cheng regime and Emperor Gongsun would be lifted in a single stroke!"

"Good. Good A-Yun."

Jing Han laughed a hoarse, bitter laugh. From start to finish, A-Yun had never considered taking him along, returning to Shu as an option. A-Yun's hand kept unconsciously drifting to his waist, where a dagger hung on one side of his belt and a short sword on the other. If Jing Han refused to go gracefully, he would likely help his "benefactor" and "mentor" go gracefully by force!

Jing Han stopped laughing. Death held no terror for him, but he did not wish to be fooled like a simpleton by his own "disciple" before he died.

"A-Yun..."

Jing Han sighed:

"You are no Jing Ke."

"Still less can you be a Gao Jianli, enduring humiliation, waiting to strike with a lute."

Jing Han's voice suddenly rose: "You are merely... Qin Wuyang, who, the moment he set foot in Qin, trembled in his heart and turned pale with terror!"

At these words, A-Yun's face twisted violently. Before Jing Han could finish, his next movements were lightning-fast. His right hand drew the short sword across Jing Han's throat, silencing any shout or cry, while his left hand cut the vine ropes binding Jing Han — then, reversing his grip, he plunged the dagger into his own shoulder!

The sequence was seamless, without the slightest tremor or hesitation. Seeing that Jing Han, clutching his throat, was bleeding out beyond saving, he then bellowed in feigned fury:

"The villain!"

"He ambushed me, the Colonel! Damn him!"

By the time the distant Di soldiers came rushing over, Jing Han had already breathed his last. A-Yun, cursing and swearing, gave the corpse a kick and handed it over to his men to deal with.

As A-Yun turned away, he glanced back once more at Jing Han's eyes, which refused to close. A sudden panic seized him, and he hurried away.

In the State of Wei, Ayun — a sworn man of Gongsun who had lain hidden for nine years — finally made his choice.

He betrayed his mission, and "repaid" the one who had once shown him kindness.

Ayun's hands began trembling again. They were covered in Jing Han's blood. He wiped them on the front of his robe, then reached inside his lapel, where a sachet his wife had woven with her own hands lay hidden. Wrapped inside the sachet were his child's milk teeth.

"Lord Jing was right. I was never a brave man — just a petty wretch who clings to life, fears death, and cannot bear to part with wealth and his wife."

Five bright-red fingers gently, tenderly brushed his chest, then suddenly clenched the lapel tight. Ayun's gaze turned utterly ruthless. He was still the sharpest dagger of Qionglai Mountain:

"No matter what — that's one less person who knows my secret!"