Chapter 141: Gambling Small to Win Big

"Ma Yaozi, I'll fuck your old man!" Barbarian Bear let out a howl, his voice full of grief and fury.

The man roaring this was with Dunzhu, Yan Jin, Fan Shun, and the others in Ma Yaozi's tent.

Thinking back to a quarter hour ago, he had come to Ma Yaozi's camp full of joy, ready to have a good drink, but the moment he arrived he realized Ma Yaozi had no good intentions.

They got their mutton, and there were even a few tasty side dishes to go with the wine, but the cruelty lay right here: Ma Yaozi claimed the wine had been given by the young lord to him alone, so the liquor ban was lifted only for him. The mutton everyone could share, but the wine—only he, Ma Yaozi, could drink it.

"Ma Yaozi, I'll fuck your old man too! You dog of a slave, next time I earn merit and get fine wine, I'll be sure to call you over to share the joy. Just remember you'd better accept!"

Yan Jin gnawed at a leg of mutton through gritted teeth, but the mutton leg, usually so chewy and full of texture, now tasted like firewood in his mouth.

Ma Yaozi gave a smug grin, still wearing that punchable expression. "And what if I don't come?"

"Don't come? Hah! Even if your legs were broken, we brothers would carry you over!" Dunzhu and Fan Shun said in unison, viciously, making Ma Yaozi's legs go cold.

Zhang Zhao hummed a little tune as he walked past Ma Yaozi's tent. After listening carefully for a few lines, he nodded with satisfaction and walked off.

The reason Ma Yaozi did this was that Zhang Zhao had given him special instructions after the meeting. The purpose, of course, was to foster a culture of active thinking in his army.

For these armored soldiers of the Mountain-Shaking Capital, brave generals alone were not enough; they had to cultivate a batch of commander-level talents as well.

His troops were growing more and more numerous, and the places he needed to attack were increasing too. He couldn't always have Zhang Erlang personally lead the troops and charge into battle to cut men down every single time!

Returning to his own bedchamber, Zhang Zhao pulled out a golden fish pouch from his bosom. This sort of thing was originally used to hold a fish tally.

The fish tally was a reward that only officials of the fifth rank or above in the Tang dynasty could possibly receive, serving as a pass to enter the palace city. The pouch for holding the fish tally was called a fish pouch. Fish pouches came in gold and silver, and the golden fish pouch was something only those of the third rank or above could obtain.

But this thing had already begun to proliferate due to excessive bestowal even in the High Tang, and by the Five Dynasties, many wealthy households without any officials could also hang a few on their persons. So for someone like Zhang Zhao to have several golden fish pouches was hardly surprising.

But this particular golden fish pouch was a little different. Along with the fish pouch came a very finely carved jade pendant, and also a letter. The handwriting in the letter was delicate, with a few light words of greeting, yet Zhang Zhao seemed to feel even more the sender's restrained joy.

Well then! This golden fish pouch, jade pendant, and letter were all sent by the lawful wife of the Grand Duke Zhang, Cao Shijiu Niang, Cao Yanxi, through a traveling merchant from Shazhou. Zhang Zhao picked up the golden fish pouch and sniffed it lightly. There was a faint, delicate fragrance, very pleasant.

But then he felt somewhat awkward. Although Cao Yanxi was already betrothed to him—his wife-to-be, only the betrothal gifts had not yet been sent—she was still just a thirteen-year-old girl.

Who knew why the ancients matured so early? A thirteen-year-old girl not only had a fiancé, she even knew to embroider a golden fish pouch for him, and between the lines of her writing there was a sense of impatience.

And he himself seemed to have been assimilated somewhat, actually picking up a golden fish pouch embroidered by a thirteen-year-old girl and sniffing it lightly.

Laughing at himself twice, Zhang Zhao looked at the date on the letter. This was the agreement between Lady Cao San and him: she would write the date at the end of every letter.

If the date was in the first ten days of the month, that is, from the first to the tenth, it meant Cao Yijin's health was good. If the date was in the middle ten days, that is, from the eleventh to the twentieth, it meant Cao Yijin's health was not too good. If it was in the last ten days, then Cao Yijin's health was certainly in serious trouble.

Moreover, the smaller the date, the better Cao Yijin's health. Zhang Zhao looked at the date: the eighteenth of the second month. It seemed Cao Yijin's health had indeed developed a considerable problem.

Because anything over twenty indicated major trouble, so the number eighteen actually already represented danger.

Zhang Zhao drew a deep breath. Cao Yijin's physical condition hung over his heart like a restriction.

He could not go back too early. If he went back too early, Cao Yijin would not be an easy opponent to deal with.

But he could not go back too late either. If he went back too late and missed the critical moment of power transition in the Cao family's Guiyi Army, then seizing power would probably still require resorting to force.

Yet the Han people in Hexi numbered fewer than one hundred thousand. Even adding the Sinicized Sogdians and Tuyuhun, it was only a little over two hundred thousand. This was his base. If he could avoid deaths, it was best to avoid them. Wielding the sword in the two prefectures of Gua and Sha was the last thing Zhang Zhao wanted to see.

His gaze shifted, and he saw the layered formation that he claimed he had "designed himself" but had actually plagiarized.

This was a standard defensive-counterattack formation. Although it could use infantry to overcome cavalry, its poor mobility was its most obvious weakness.

That is, the precondition for this formation to display its power was that the enemy had to be made to attack you proactively, rather than you taking the initiative to strike.

Zhang Zhao recalled the historical usage records of the layered formation's inventor, Wu Lin. Almost every time, light troops were first sent to provoke and enrage the Jin army into attacking, then constant small maneuvers were used to thoroughly infuriate the Jin forces from top to bottom, making them launch frenzied assaults, and finally defeating them.

But once the Jin army did not attack proactively, this formation lost its intended function.

It's a bit difficult! Zhang Zhao sighed. Historically, the layered formation worked because the battlefield situation was Jin strong and Song weak—and by a great deal. The Jin army often routed Song forces at one-to-ten odds, so they had a psychological advantage and were easily provoked into launching fierce attacks.

But the situation Zhang Zhao faced was different. The Karakhanids could press Khotan and beat them not because the Karakhanid army was far stronger than Khotan's, but because they held the geographic advantage and had the strong city of Shule to use.

Secondly, they had a constant stream of reinforcements, allowing the Karakhanids to fight a war of attrition with Khotan. Even at a two-to-one or even three-to-one exchange ratio, it was still advantageous to the Karakhanid state.

So the long-standing pattern of warfare was that the Khotanese army would besiege Shule for a long time without success, and only when they were utterly exhausted would the Karakhanid army come out proactively for field battle.

Damn it. Zhang Zhao wanted to use the layered formation against the Karakhanid cavalry, but in reality, the Karakhanid army was often the passive side.

No! He had to think of a way to make the Karakhanid army take the initiative and attack.

Zhang Zhao thought again of his initial crazy idea, which could be called a desperate last stand: he would take over two thousand men directly to the walls of Lower Artush, form up his formation, and lure the Karakhanid army into attacking.

If their tens of thousands of cavalry did not even dare to attack a formation of just over two thousand men, almost all infantry, then the Karakhanid army would never need to take the battlefield again.

Moreover, perhaps he could also spread the fame of his storming of Shule's walls, and even make some use of Saktu's queen, Lady Cao?

But the danger of this was not small either. If he were defeated, or even if the Khotanese army's support merely arrived too slowly, he would face the danger of total annihilation!

Zhang Zhao rubbed his head. Over the past year or so, it seemed every battle he fought had been spent in extreme risk-taking. Every time he had gambled small to win big. His strength was still too poor!

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