Chapter 690: Meteorite

From the Spring and Autumn period to the Han dynasty, the men of Jiangdong were famed for their fierceness: the kings of Wu and Yue each rose to hegemony in turn, southern foot soldiers once routed northern chariot troops, and they dominated the eastern lands for a hundred years. Though Wu and Yue fell, their descendants remained — skilled with the sword, careless of death, quick to anger. At the end of Qin, eight thousand Jiangdong sons followed Xiang Yu north; at the Battle of Julu and the Battle of Pengcheng, they hammered the tall, sturdy men of Guanzhong until they could not even parry.

Since the Han began, the Wu County and Kuaiji regions gradually adopted the fashions of the Central Plains, and their martial vigor weakened somewhat — yet one place in Jiangdong still overflowed with warrior virtue.

"The soldiers of Danyang are the finest armor in all Jiangdong!"

Before Liu Xiu took control of the southeast, he had heard people praise Danyang recruits. This was a young commandery, carved out only during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han, wedged between Yuzhang and Wu-Kuaiji, its territory spanning thousands of li. Though it bordered the Yangtze, its interior was full of great mountains and dense forests, where many Shanyue tribes dwelled.

The Han folk of Danyang were resolute and fierce by custom. Day to day they hacked through brambles and thorns, half farmer, half hunter. They not only had to fend off Shanyue raids but also, from time to time, clashed with the authorities over taxes and levies. Their local communities were thus tightly knit and could readily band together into soldiers. Moreover, Danyang was rich in iron, copper, and tin, so the common people could forge their own armor and weapons. This made large-scale armed feuds a commonplace affair in Danyang Commandery. In recent years, the Han folk had even turned the tables and plundered the Shanyue, beating them so badly they dared not leave the mountains. Gradually, these Han armed groups of Danyang came to be called "clan bandits" by the authorities.

It took Liu Xiu many years to subdue the Danyang clan bandits. He modeled his approach on the Wei Wu troops of the Warring States: one man served as a soldier, and his entire household was exempted from taxes and levies, and might even receive a house and homestead on the plains. Those with merit were further granted a few Shanyue captives — their big toes lopped off — as slaves. Danyang was still poor, so soldiering plainly became a good path. Out of barely a hundred thousand households in the whole commandery, over twenty thousand men joined the army. The ten thousand most elite among them became Liu Xiu's personal troops, utterly loyal to him.

In this world, no gain comes without a cost: troops who can fight are often unruly and hard to tame. To this day, only one man can command the Danyang soldiers — Liu Xiu alone. The other generals, even Feng Yi and Deng Yu, are held in contempt by the Danyang clan leaders. This was precisely why Liu Xiu, disregarding the risk, personally led the Danyang troops out to strike.

Under Diwu Lun's orders, the five thousand Wei soldiers guarding the earth-filled sacks on the upper Dangyang River saw this scene: from the sparse woodland, countless enemies emerged. They all wore green cloth wrapped around their heads, close in color to the leaves, so that the garrison commander, Weiwei Diqi Biao, had failed to detect them early. By the time the Wei troops formed ranks, the Danyang soldiers were already charging the riverbank...

Blocked by the water impounded behind the earth sacks, the Dangyang River had grown shallow and narrow, no obstacle at all to the Danyang soldiers. Though they wore armor and carried sharp blades, their feet were shod only in straw sandals — or even bare — yet they moved with astonishing speed. After all, in Danyang's rugged terrain, these men could scale mountains, brave peril, and push through thickets of thorns. Thus, trekking through the woods, they were like gibbons springing through the trees; entering the water, they were like fish darting through the deep.

Years ago, Diqi Biao had held off Wang Chang at Tong Slope, but that had relied on the advantage of terrain. Now, with the Danyang soldiers charging head-on and catching him off guard, he was thrown into flustered confusion. The Wei crossbowmen shot down over a hundred men in the river, but the Danyang soldiers, fearless of death, surged forward wave upon wave. And among them was a fierce general, clad in heavy armor, spurring his horse at full gallop, smashing straight into the formation — it was none other than Jia Fu!

The Danyang troops charged the Wei brigade three times. Diqi Biao could not hold them and hastily sent men to request reinforcements. He knew the Emperor had only committed half the reserves, with many still concealed behind the main camp, and that Wan Xiu's force was several li away, pressing Wang Chang hard — perhaps they could spare ten thousand or so men?

Yet Diqi Biao did not wait for reinforcements to arrive; instead, he received a verbal decree from Diwu Lun...

"Weiwei, fall back for now. Let the Danyang soldiers cross the river."

"If the enemy crosses, what of the dam blocked by the earth sacks?" Diqi Biao was deeply worried, but he obeyed the order. Half in feint, half in earnest, the five-thousand-strong brigade seemed as though routed by the Danyang troops and hurriedly shifted eastward.

Liu Xiu too spurred his horse across the Dangyang River and immediately issued a command.

"General Jia, lead your men in pursuit! Once the rear column crosses the river, destroy the dam!"

The dam had been built by the Wei army the night before. Tens of thousands of men had carried several thousand earth-filled sacks and piled them up, blocking the Dangyang River's flow and forming a small barrier lake upstream, to facilitate crossing the river for battle.

Building the dam was hard; destroying it was easy. The last thousand or so Danyang soldiers pried open a breach, and the water burst forth, surging downstream!

Yet the Dangyang River was simply too small — a mere tributary of a tributary of the Han River — utterly incapable of replicating the famous scene of Han Xin drowning Long Ju in the Wei River. The entire barrier lake emptied in a single gush. At first it charged like galloping horses, but after only a few li it slowed to a gentle flow, unable to harm the Wei troops, at most startling the supply carts that were crossing the river to deliver arrows.

Nevertheless, all three Han columns were at a disadvantage, fighting as they retreated, while the Wei forces pressed deeper step by step, nearly all crossing to the south of the Dangyang. Now that the river had risen, it effectively split the Wei formation in two, which should slightly hinder the speed of any troops turning back to reinforce.

This brief window of time thus won was the key to Liu Xiu turning defeat into victory!

The Wei officers in every division noticed this as well. On the left, Wan Xiu; in the center, Cen Peng — both sent men back to seek instructions from Diwu Lun: "Should we halt the attack and pull back a little to regroup?"

But Diwu Lun ordered the generals to keep pressing the fight. He was standing at the main camp, holding a telescope fixed on the Danyang troops who were charging relentlessly from west to east toward him, and said:

"No matter. The enemy is already within my sight!"

Because the Han Emperor's great banner still stood where it had been, Diwu Lun did not know that Liu Xiu had personally taken the field. But the great name of the Danyang troops he had long heard of: years ago they had besieged Gai Yan north of the Huai, and recently they had coordinated with Jia Fu at the Nanzhang River to devour Cen Peng's rear column. They were truly the mainstay of the Han army.

Diwu Lun had deliberately let this force come through.

"After the elephant formation was routed, the enemy's morale plummeted, yet they still struggle on bitterly. If the Danyang troops rashly advance and are annihilated, then the rest of their units will surely collapse entirely!"

He sent a man to notify the retreating Diqi Biao: "Order the Weiwei to fall back to the small hill three li to the east. General of the Sweeping Wilderness Zheng will receive him."

General of the Sweeping Wilderness Zheng Tong was a fierce commander in the Wei army. He had come from the Boar-Rush Braves of New Qinzhong and was a diehard loyalist among Diwu Lun's diehard loyalists. He had made his name at the Battle of Longshou Canal. It was only a pity that he could only handle small forces and struggled to hold a front on his own. At the battle north of the Huai, Gai Yan had rashly advanced and been captured; Zheng Tong, unable to reinforce in time, had to shoulder some of the blame. In the five years since, he had not been promoted and remained a miscellaneous-titled general.

In today's great battle, however, Zheng Tong was not at the front line. Instead, he had been ordered to guard the vicinity of the main camp, watching his colleagues each show their prowess. He was so impatient he scratched his ears and cheeks in frustration.

Now, seeing Diqi Biao retreating in defeat from the dam with the Danyang troops in hot pursuit, Zheng Tong received Diwu Lun's verbal decree and was instantly fired up.

"Just a stray pawn that lucked its way across the river, and it thinks it can threaten the general?"

Ever since becoming Diwu Lun's enemy, Liu Xiu had been stifled for ten years.

Every time he fought the State of Wei, Liu Xiu would first deliberate with Deng Yu in the temple hall, calculating a thousand times over, racking his brains to exhaustion. Knowing full well his own state was weak and at a disadvantage, even if Diwu Lun tempted him again and again, Liu Xiu resolutely refused to fight a decisive battle. He would rather lose territory than lose men.

Yet this brought no hope to the Great Han. Its territory was nibbled away inch by inch, his beloved generals fell in battle one after another. The dream of restoring the House of Han and returning to the old capital grew dimmer and dimmer, until in the end, only Liu Xiu himself still believed.

Each time he suffered a setback, amid self-reproach and regret, Liu Xiu grew ever more nostalgic for his youth, turning over and over in his mind the great Battle of Kunyang that had made his name resplendent!

Back then, the Xin army's host of three hundred thousand had besieged Kunyang so tightly not a drop could leak through. Liu Xiu had slipped out with thirteen riders to seek reinforcements, scraping together a little over ten thousand men to return and relieve the siege. Yet the other generals, gazing upon the Xin army's endless camps and ramparts, turned ashen-faced and none dared advance. Liu Xiu alone led his trusted men in a charge, routing several thousand men on the Xin army's flank and taking several dozen heads — only then did the others begin to pluck up their courage.

By coincidence, that very night, an omen appeared: at midnight on the first day of the sixth month, a streak of light blazed across the night sky. A star fell from the heavens, its radiance stretching over a hundred feet, as bright as the bright moon itself! A rumbling sound followed, resonant as a pheasant's call, startling half the army camp and even the city of Kunyang!

Although that meteorite fell south of Kunyang city — and the Xin army, having left one side of the encirclement open, was not struck upon its camps — the earth shook and the hills trembled. Seeing this strange phenomenon, the enemy's morale was thrown into turmoil, and the next day they hastily withdrew. The real reason was that word of Diwu Lun's rebellion in Guanzhong had arrived, and Wang Yi thus turned back. But Liu Xiu always firmly believed that it was that army-shattering star which let his side fight one against a hundred and secured the great victory the following day.

At the critical moment when the Xin army began its retreat, the other generals favored letting them go. It was Liu Xiu who stepped forward, leading only three thousand men willing to die, charging from the west of the city across the water straight into the enemy's core. In one stroke he broke Wang Yi's elite troops. The Han soldiers, riding their sharp momentum, shattered them, their battle cries shaking heaven and earth. The Xin army collapsed utterly; the fleeing trampled one another, and corpses lay strewn for over a hundred li!

From Feng Yi to Wang Chang, none dared meet Liu Xiu's gaze. That was the most exhilarating moment of his life.

And today, after ten years of swallowing humiliation and bearing heavy burdens, pushed by Diwu Lun until there was no more room to retreat, Liu Xiu resolved to take up once more the courage he had shown back then!

From the elite troops muffling their banners and drums to make a flanking march, to crossing the river and routing the enemy, to destroying the dam and cutting off the Wei main force's path back to reinforce — everything had gone smoothly. And ahead, Jia Fu was more valiant than ever, relentlessly pursuing and hammering Diqi Biao's five thousand troops. Ah Biao's feigned retreat had turned into a real rout.

Liu Xiu was overjoyed: "The armored men of Danyang outnumber the three thousand dare-to-die soldiers of Kunyang several times over; Diwu's Wei army is far fewer than the three hundred thousand of the Xin."

"I should have acted this way long ago."

Against an enemy like Diwu Lun, the more you deliberated, the more you fell to the disadvantage.

Liu Xiu had reclaimed the high-spirited boldness he had felt beneath the walls of Kunyang. He watched as Diqi Biao retreated in defeat to the vicinity of a small hill, his troops splitting in two and withdrawing to the left and right. And there, stretched across the front, stood a silent Wei force, shields and blades at the ready, guarding quietly, standing firm as a mountain before the oncoming foe.

That was precisely the eight-thousand-strong division commanded by Zheng Tong — and to the naked eye, the last defensive force remaining west of Diwu Lun's main camp.

The various divisions south of the Dangyang River seemed already locked in combat by the Han army, unable to break free and turn back to reinforce.

Just one step left!

Liu Xiu drew his sword and pointed straight at Diwu Lun's five-colored banner and standard, four li to the northeast.

"Pass the word: any general, Danyang clan leader, or soldier who can break the enemy and smash their lines shall be enfeoffed as a marquis; whoever can slay or capture Diwu Lun shall be enfeoffed as a king!"

As soon as Liu Xiu issued the order to storm the position, Jia Fu had already taken the lead, and the Danyang troops slammed into Zheng Tong's division!

Zheng Tong, fresh and waiting, held the advantage, and with three or four thousand of Diqi Biao's remnant troops on the flank, the Wei forces had a slight numerical edge. But the Danyang soldiers were, after all, the finest elite of the Han army, and for a time the battle was locked in a grinding stalemate.

In truth, behind that unremarkable little hill, three thousand cavalry had been stationed for quite some time. The Cavalry Commandant Dou Gu repeatedly sent men up the hill to spy on the battle.

"Commandant, there is a Han general of ferocious might, clad in white armor, riding a red horse barded for battle. He has charged the Wei formation several times."

"That man must be Jia Fu, Jia Junwen."

Dou Gu immediately grew frantic at these words. "General Zheng and the Guard Commander together cannot subdue this man?"

He turned to look at the three thousand Sanhe cavalry behind him and appealed to "Army-Protector Colonel" Zhu Di for orders: "Colonel Zhu, if we go out, we can surely annihilate the Danyang troops!"

But Zhu Di shouted him down: "No! The Sanhe cavalry are ordered to guard the firearms and await His Majesty's command here. We absolutely must not abandon our post!"

Zhu Di and Zhang Yu were orphans Diwu Lun had taken in back then near the coal pits of Guanzhong, and he treated them like family. Zhang Yu later took charge of intelligence work for the Embroidered Uniform Guard, while Zhu Di first served as a Palace Gentleman and was later entrusted by Diwu Lun with the critical task of supervising firearms production in the Zhongnan Mountains.

Whether fireworks, Nest-of-Bees rockets, or fire-cart flamethrowers — all were transitional products born of the craftsmen's sudden inspirations. Of the only two weapons Diwu Lun himself had specified, the sole one currently practical was this great beast before them now...

What Dou Gu and the others were guarding were precisely some cumbersome tube-shaped objects. Thanks to the bronze-casting techniques that had reached their zenith from the Shang and Zhou dynasties onward, cannon barrels could be produced within five years. There were five in all, each weighing a thousand jin (Han jin), and they had to be carried on oxcarts.

Diwu Lun had once thought of adding wheels, but the roads in this age were far too terrible — the jolting along the way would easily knock the cannons out of true.

That's right — His Majesty the Emperor had named this thing a "cannon," no longer using the old character for catapult. Its power and range reached, at best, the level of the 14th century in later ages...

After trudging along for several ke, the bronze cannons were finally hauled slowly up the hill along a hastily repaired ramp and emplaced on the artificially leveled summit.

The preparations were lengthy. Dou Gu watched idly as the soldiers unloaded the heavy bronze cannon barrels from the carts and set up the stabilizing stone bases.

Also taken down were large quantities of black powder and round stone shot polished from granite. The craftsmen labored to adjust the muzzles; some held up aiming instruments, combining experience with science, and little by little corrected the angle toward the two armies locked in fierce combat...

In this interminable calibration, Dou Gu felt every moment drag like a year. Before long, another burst of fierce shouting rose from beyond the hill. A lookout reported back: "The enemy general Jia Fu has broken through the line and slain one of our colonels!"

At this, the Sanhe cavalry erupted in an uproar. The crucial battle was barely two li away, yet they could only stand and watch. Were they to sit idly by as their comrades were defeated and the enemy charged all the way to the Emperor's main camp before they moved to rescue the throne?

Hooves pawed restlessly at the ground. Everyone looked at Zhu Di.

But Zhu Di remained silent, merely ordering a man to raise a flag and signal to the Emperor the message: "All preparations complete."

In the distant main camp, a cannon flag was slowly raised, swayed gently — then slashed sharply downward!

That was Diwu Lun's order. Zhu Di exhaled in relief, strode at once to the hilltop, and said to the cannon craftsmen: "His Majesty commands: load stone shot, aim for the enemy's mid-to-rear position."

"Fire!"

The tide of battle was unquestionably turning in the Han army's favor.

Riding the fine horse Liu Xiu had given him, Jia Fu fought with peerless valor — he had already slain dozens and cut down one colonel. But this battle relied on more than just individual courage; there was also Liu Xiu's masterful command. He had reinforced the right wing, and the Danyang troops with their green headscarves struck forward in close combat, breaking through a small gap in the Wei line. Then he immediately poured in more troops, turning a point into a line, the battle line advancing inch by inch. It seemed only a matter of time before they pierced through the Wei formation.

Seeing this, Liu Xiu felt as if he were back at Kunyang once more, and thought to himself: "Just as I knew — heaven helps those who help themselves!"

"Your Majesty, look over there!"

At that very moment, a lookout charged with observing the surrounding terrain reported to Liu Xiu. Liu Xiu's gaze followed the man's pointing finger to the small hill less than two li (Han li) to the north.

"Scouts sent to reconnoiter were driven off by Wei cavalry. No birds descend behind the hill — there may be Wei troops lying in ambush there. And on the summit, there is also activity — perhaps they are assembling some device..."

This concern was not unwarranted. After all, just a few ke earlier, the seemingly invincible elephant formation had suffered a devastating strike from Wei firearms.

But what Liu Xiu actually feared more was the Wei cavalry that might be hidden behind the hill. As for the firearms...

"Frightening toys — nothing to be afraid of."

Because the Danyang troops were already locked in melee with the Wei army. Given the range of the fire-carts and their appallingly wretched accuracy, any shot would likely fall evenly on the heads of both armies — and might even give Liu Xiu a helping hand...

But this naive notion was shattered by a deafening roar!

"BOOM!"

The sound was so tremendous, so ear-splitting, that it drowned out the clamor and shrieks of the two armies locked in slaughter. Soldiers in the thick of combat could not help glancing left and right.

Liu Xiu quickly found the source of the sound — it was precisely that hilltop he had dismissed so lightly. A plume of white smoke was rising from it, and something was hurtling this way through the air...

It reached the apex of its parabolic arc, then, pulled by gravity, slanted downward bit by bit, drawing closer and closer to the ground, until at last it smashed into the rear of the Han army's formation!

A Danyang soldier instinctively raised his shield to block — but the shield shattered with a crash, and along with it vanished half his body, pulverized by the stone shot that weighed a full hundred jin!

Before the Han army could react, four more thunderous booms — "BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM" — followed in succession, accompanied by earth-shaking, mountain-trembling roars. The shock of this salvo was even greater. Jia Fu, in the midst of charging down the enemy on horseback, had his warhorse rear in fright, throwing General Jia from the saddle.

Moments later, the four stone balls flew into the Han army at an angle. Because the Danyang troops were packed so densely, dozens were dragged to the ground by the immense force, and more than ten died on the spot. The stone shot, smeared with blood and still smoking, embedded themselves deep in the muddy earth. A whole square formation was instantly broken at one corner.

The Danyang soldiers had been bombarded repeatedly. Most did not even know where the scalding stone shot hurtling overhead had come from. As they looked at one another in bewilderment, their steps lost the firmness and speed of before, replaced by chaos visible to the naked eye.

Some recalled the legend that had spread far and wide through the Han army — the myth of the great battle of Kunyang, when Heaven aided Liu Xiu and sent down meteorites to help the Han and crush the Xin army!

"Meteorites — these are meteorites, falling stars from beyond the sky!"

But this time, why had the "meteorites" fallen upon their own heads? Could it be that the Mandate of Heaven no longer rested with the Fiery Han?!

Liu Xiu could not answer that question. What answered them was the thunderous cheer that suddenly erupted from the Wei army: "Heaven aids Great Wei! Falling stars smite the foe!"

And far away in the main camp, Diwu Lun raised his telescope once more to observe the effect of the cannons' first real combat test.

He saw that on the hilltop, the muzzles were smoking — the bronze cannon barrels could not sustain continuous fire; they needed to rest and cool down at intervals.

So the cannons were merely the icing on the cake. What would truly decide victory was still close-quarters combat. From behind the hill, Dou Gu was slowly emerging into view with his three thousand Sanhe cavalry, preparing to launch the attack!

He saw the morale of the Danyang troops collapsing like snow melting away, saw them beginning to fall back in disarray under Zheng Tong's counterattack. Their command had also been thrown into momentary chaos, losing all coherence.

It was only a pity he could not find Liu Xiu and see the despairing, tragic look on the face of his old nemesis... Perhaps in Liu Xiu's mind, it was Diwu Lun — who kept pulling out one unimaginable weapon after another, catching him utterly off guard — who was the true "Child of the Plane," the true "Grand Magus."

Diwu Lun lowered his telescope and ordered a banner raised. The reserve force of several thousand men, held back like a drawn bow all this time, now appeared on the flank and rear of the Danyang troops, preparing to coordinate with friendly forces and swallow the Han army's trump card in a single gulp.

The cannon fire rang out again. The stone in Diwu Lun's heart landed together with the cannonballs. He gazed into the distance at the great Fiery Han banner fluttering wildly in the wind, and smiled.

That heaven-shaking, earth-shattering sound seemed to be telling Liu Xiu something on Diwu Lun's behalf.

"Xiu, my boy."

"Times have changed!"