Chapter 260: Souls Steadfast — Heroes Among the Ghosts

East of Shouchang City lay the Prosperity Left Ward, where the families of the Shouchang Garrison troops all lived. Of the men who had followed Zhang Zhao from the Shouchang Garrison to Anxi this time, five had died in battle.

And of the five fallen, apart from Huo Sheng'er, three of the other four were all from Prosperity Left Ward. So it was here that Zhang Zhao held a collective funeral for them.

The funeral was conducted with great solemnity. The abbot of Shouchang's Fayuan Temple personally came with the temple's eminent monks to perform a seven-day Water and Land Dharma rite for the three heroic spirits, to deliver their souls and to pray for blessings upon the living.

Three young warriors in white robes came slowly forward, each carrying a funerary urn. They wore moon-white round-collared shirts and bore solemn expressions. These were members of Great King Zhang's adopted-son army.

Leading them was the boy from Eastern Cao, Hui Gou, the one who had guided the army through the Kyzylkum Desert — exceptionally clever, fierce, and brave.

Hui Gou'er was a distant nephew of Cao Yanmian of the Cao clan, so Zhang Zhao had appointed him commander of the adopted-son army and bestowed on him the name Zhang Liecheng.

"Old sir, these are the belongings of Qu Qilang!" Zhang Zhao personally handed a suit of iron lamellar armor to an old man who was trembling all over from weeping.

The old man reached out and touched the broken armor plates at the breach, and wept even harder. It was right here that a long spear had stabbed through and killed Qu Qilang.

"May I ask, young lord, did my son Qu Qi fight bravely?" Qu Qilang's old father did not take the armor, but asked Zhang Zhao, his lips quivering.

Zhang Zhao nodded heavily. "Qu Qilang was a fine warrior! At that time we were at Sanshui Bay in Ningyuan, with thirteen thousand men, facing a decisive battle against thirty thousand Persians and twenty thousand Karakhanids.

In the battle line, three hundred Persian armored cavalry charged straight at my position. Qu Qilang and his whole squad went forward to intercept them. First he loosed three arrows at the iron-clad horses, and every shot struck true — three Persian armored riders fell at the sound!"

When Zhang Zhao reached this point, he deliberately paused for a brief moment.

"Wind!" came a great shout. Whether old man or able-bodied youth, even children — all stamped their feet, struck their fists, and roared "Wind!" Their soaring battle spirit surged upward in an instant.

"Then the armored cavalry came on in force. Qu Qilang took up his lance and advanced, unhorsed one enemy rider, then cut him down with his iron axe!"

"Wind!" Another great shout, so loud that the flames of the torches stuck in the walls flickered wildly.

"Alas, the Persian bandit horsemen were too many. Qu Qilang slew another foe, and then was surrounded by several dozen riders.

The Persians dared not close in, and only shot arrows from horseback. Qu Qilang was struck by more than ten arrows, blood streaming over the ground, until at last his strength failed. With a great cry of 'Kill the barbarians, repay the nation!' he fell in battle by the banks of Sanshui Bay on the Yaxartes at Ningyuan!"

"Glorious, my son!" Qu Qilang's father wept, tears streaming down his face. He did not take the lamellar armor, but instead took the funerary urn, his fingers ceaselessly stroking the earthenware urn.

"Then what of my younger brother, Luo Wulang? Young lord, where did he fall?"

Luo Wulang's father had died early, and his old mother had already wept herself unconscious. Only an elder sister could still stand, and she asked Zhang Zhao while being supported by her husband.

"Luo Wulang fell outside the city of Suyab. At that time, tens of thousands of Persian troops were besieging the city. Luo Wulang wore iron armor and ranged freely through the Persian ranks. He shot and killed seven with his bow, and slew nine with his long lance. Alas, his warhorse stumbled, and our brave warrior was trapped among hundreds of enemy soldiers!"

Tears came to Zhang Zhao's eyes. Luo Wulang was truly a pity. In the army they had nicknamed him 'Little Luo Cheng,' and he was one of the few fully armored cavalry officers in Zhang Zhao's Hanshan Unit.

His death was even somewhat unlucky. He had already broken through the Persian battle line, but his horse stumbled and threw him off — in some mysterious way, it was almost exactly like Luo Cheng's horse sinking into the mud river.

"My son!" At that moment, Luo Wulang's old mother slowly came to, and happened to hear of Luo Wulang's death in battle, and again broke into loud wailing.

"I, Zhang Erlang, escort the heroic spirits of Qu Qilang, Luo Wulang, and Li Dalang back to their homeland! I bow in thanks to the old fathers and mothers who raised such towering, upright men!"

Having said this, Zhang Zhao held out Qu Qilang's lamellar armor and Luo Wulang's helmet, and knelt on one knee to thank Qu Qilang's father and Luo Wulang's mother.

As for Li Dalang, after he went on campaign his father had moved away with his younger brother, and the family had not yet been found.

"We grasp our Wu halberds, we don our rhinoceros-hide armor; chariot hubs clash, blades meet at close quarters.

The enemy breaks our lines, tramples our ranks; the left trace-horse is slain, the right is wounded.

We bury our wheels, hobble our four horses; we seize the jade drumsticks and beat the sounding drums.

Heaven's season turns against us, the dread spirits rage; the slaughter is merciless, the dead abandoned on the plain.

We went out and shall not return; the plain stretches vast, the road is far.

We carry long swords, we grip Qin bows; heads severed from bodies, our hearts do not repent.

Truly brave, and skilled in war; to the end unyielding, never to be dishonored.

The body is dead, yet the spirit lives on; souls steadfast — heroes among the ghosts."

Behind Zhang Zhao, the armored soldiers of the Hanshan Unit, the descendants of the Anxi Army who had returned from Suyab and new Kucha, and the Han people brought back from Khotan — every man drew the short swords and long daggers at their waists and struck the metal ornaments on their bodies, singing in unison.

Then the watching neighbors of all Prosperity Left Ward joined in the singing. Even children of a few years old held small knives of wood or iron in their hands.

Perhaps this was the very spirit that allowed the Guiyi Army, with only a few tens of thousands of sons of Tang, to hold on until the reign of Emperor Renzong of Song!

"Qu Qilang and Luo Wulang fought bravely and unfortunately fell in battle. His Majesty is deeply grieved.

Each family is specially granted one thousand strings of cash, one fine horse, four mules and donkeys, ten bolts of fine Khotan silk cloth, and twenty bolts of Khotan white cotton cloth!"

Guo Tiance sang out the proclamation with tears in his eyes, and officers had already carried over the rewards and compensation.

The crowd erupted at once. Although money cannot bring the dead back to life, it can bring great comfort to the living.

And if the money reached an astronomical figure, it could almost directly rescue the living from their grief.

These rewards added up to at least two thousand strings of cash. For an ordinary family, the quality and standard of life would immediately rise to a whole new level.

Qu Qilang's father took the iron lamellar armor and at once passed it to a powerfully built man beside him. He grasped Zhang Zhao's hand.

"Young lord, you are the finest nobleman this old man has ever seen. You have never looked down on us poor wretches.

My son Qu Qilang was brave and strong, and my second son Jiulang is even fiercer. His skill with bow and horse far surpasses his elder brother's. He wishes to be your claws and fangs!"

Zhang Zhao glanced at Qu Jiulang beside Qu's father. Indeed, he looked every inch a fierce and brave warrior.

Even the old father himself — the thick calluses on the web of his hand and his bowlegs showed that in his youth he too had most likely been a fierce cavalry fighter.

A son raised in such a family could hardly be lacking. But Zhang Zhao still did not agree.

"I have already caused you, old sir, to lose a beloved son. How could I take Jiulang from your side as well?"

"If it were to be a beast of burden on the battlefield, I would naturally be unwilling. But to follow you, young lord, I am entirely at ease. This old man still has a youngest son to care for him in old age and see him off. I only hope my son can fulfill the ambitions in his heart!"

"In that case, I thank you, old sir, for your regard!" Only then did Zhang Zhao thank Qu's father again, and he passed Qu Qilang's armor to Qu Jiulang.

"Troop Commander Luo, Qu Qilang was once your beloved officer. This time I entrust Jiulang to you as well!"

Shan Zhu'er hurried forward. His surname was Luo, his given name Shanxiong; Shan Zhu'er was only his nickname.

He stepped up and thumped Qu Jiulang's chest with satisfaction. "A fine warrior! From now on, follow me and win merit and glory for the young lord!"

Having arranged matters for Qu Jiulang, Zhang Zhao walked over to Luo Wulang's sister. He raised his hand and beckoned to the brother-in-law who was supporting her.

"Your servant, Song Qing, greets the young lord!"

"Surnamed Song! Then it seems you are a son of my mother's family!" Zhang Zhao said with a chuckle.

He was not actually wrong, because his mother's surname was Song, and among the Guiyi Army, those surnamed Song were almost all from the Song family of Shazhou.

It was just that Zhang Zhao's mother belonged to the main branch, while this Song Qing was certainly from some branch who knew how many degrees removed.

"To answer the young lord, if one were to reckon it, I should call the young lord a cousin-uncle!"

Song Qing put it very tactfully. Only if one reckoned it up did he have the standing to call Zhang Zhao a cousin-uncle, which meant his branch of the Songs was certainly a distant offshoot outside the main genealogy of the Shazhou Song clan.

"Then I grant it. From now on you may call me cousin-uncle. As for my maternal grandfather's side, I will go and put in a word."

With a wave of Zhang Zhao's hand, this matter that had seemed harder than climbing to heaven in Song Qing's eyes was settled.

"I kowtow in thanks for the young lord's great kindness!" The overjoyed Song Qing dropped to his knees with a thud and truly began kowtowing on the spot.

This was not simply a matter of returning to the clan and ancestors. Once the Shazhou Songs acknowledged him, if anything happened in the future, if anyone bullied him, he could seek help from the main branch of the Shazhou Song family.

His children could also enter the clan school of the Song main branch to study, and if they wanted to learn any craft, they could enter the Song family's shops and caravans to learn.

One could say that after returning to the clan and ancestors, his branch of the family could enter the small circle of the Shazhou Song family, which possessed a certain strength and whose members helped one another. The help and influence of a clan in this era was something people of later generations could hardly imagine.

"How many sons and daughters do you have?"

Song Qing was briefly stunned; he had not expected Zhang Zhao to ask him this. "To answer Cousin-Uncle, your nephew has three sons and two daughters!"

"Give your youngest son in adoption to Luo Wulang to continue his incense and fire. Can you do it?"

"Ah!" The crowd erupted at once. They had not expected Zhang Zhao to care so much about his fallen soldiers, even thinking to give Luo Wulang an adopted son.

Qu Qilang's case was easy to handle — adopt a child from his own brothers, and the surname did not even need to change. Without Zhang Zhao saying a word, Qu's father would do it himself.

But in Luo Wulang's case, it was somewhat difficult. Adopting a sister's husband's child, when there was only one sister, was very hard to accomplish without outside support.

Song Qing also hesitated for a moment, and finally, under Zhang Zhao's gaze, slowly nodded.

Luo Wulang's sister and mother seemed suddenly to be relieved of their grief. Luo Wulang's mother even struggled to come over and kowtow to Zhang Zhao.

Luo Wulang's maternal uncle held Luo Wulang's mother back. He walked over and performed a proper, formal empty-hand salute to Zhang Zhao.

Although Luo Wulang could also adopt a nephew from a distant cousin's family, how could that compare to adopting his own sister's son, who carried closer blood ties?

"The young lord has shown Luo Wulang the great kindness of saving his line from extinction. If Wulang knows beneath the springs, he will understand that he did not follow the wrong man. On behalf of my elder sister, I thank the young lord for his great kindness. Please accept my bow!"

Zhang Zhao calmly accepted the empty-hand salute from Luo Wulang's uncle, then turned and made a full bow to the sea of neighbors all around.

"Today I ask all you neighbors to help send Qu Qilang and Luo Wulang's departed souls to burial. I have arranged some tables of food; please do not disdain it as too shabby."

None of the surrounding neighbors had imagined that a man of Zhang Zhao's standing would actually invite them personally, and that there would be tables of food to eat.

Many people at once recalled the kindness of the late Grand Guardian Zhang Yichao, and collectively gave Zhang Zhao a cupped-hand salute.

"We are willing to follow the young lord's orders!"

"This is what neighbors ought to do — how could it be worth eating the young lord's feast!"

"The young lord has such presence — worthy indeed of a son raised in Shouchang!"

"Ward Head Luo!" Zhang Zhao called over Ward Head Luo of the Prosperity Left Ward.

"There is still no word from Li Dalang's family, and I have no time to wait here. If the ward head hears any news of Li Dalang's family, please be sure to inform me!"

Ward Head Luo hastily agreed, and everyone's good opinion of Zhang Zhao rose sharply another level.

The Qu Qilang and Luo Wulang households of Prosperity Left Ward were sunk in the grief of losing their loved ones, but for the other thirty-odd families who had people follow Zhang Zhao to Anxi, it was wild joy.

Because their loved ones had not only returned, but had brought back large quantities of wealth and goods, and the family's circumstances had suddenly improved greatly.

For example, Ma Yaozi at this moment was embracing Yu Niang in wild abandon, but Yu Niang suddenly let out a puff of laughter.

This made Ma Yaozi very displeased, and he angrily slapped Yu Niang's snow-white, pert buttocks.

"What are you laughing at? Gone mad?" Ma Yaozi was beginning to doubt his own prowess. Shouldn't Yu Niang be howling right now? How could she laugh?

"My lord, you've gotten so much money and grain — how could the two of us ever eat and drink it all in our lifetime? Just thinking of it makes me want to laugh!"

Hearing Yu Niang say this, Ma Yaozi did not know whether to laugh or cry.

Not far from Ma Yaozi's house, Chen Huo'er's home was even more filled with joy.

The moment the betrothal gifts worth fifty strings of cash were presented, that aunt of his who usually looked down on him smiled so hard her eyes narrowed into slits.

Chen Huo'er craned his neck to look past his aunt. The little cousin he had not seen in four years was even more poised and graceful now.

"What's the hurry? Pick a good day — there'll be plenty for you to look at later!" Chen's father could not bear to watch any longer, and also ached at the fifty strings of wealth, so he glared fiercely at Chen Huo'er.

The cousin at once blushed red, lowered her head, and twisted the hem of her clothes with her fingers. Before long, even her neck had turned red.

In the old days, Chen Huo'er would inevitably have gotten into a shouting match with his father, but now, as one of Zhang Zhao's personal guards, Chen Huo'er had matured considerably. He smiled lightly and boldly gazed at the cousin he yearned for day and night.

"I can't look enough! No matter how I look, it's never enough! In the river lands and India, there were beautiful Hu dancers aplenty — even a princess, if I wanted one, I could have had one. But not one of them could compare to Mei Niang.

Isn't Father just pained over fifty strings of cash? Let your gaze be a little more far-sighted. I, Chen Dalang, am a man who will become an army commander and a military governor in the future. What is a mere fifty strings?"

In the past, the hot-tempered Chen father would surely have jumped up and cursed furiously, and might even have swung a palm as big as a cattail-leaf fan straight at him.

But today, Chen Huo'er simply stood there like a man of rank, and Chen's father could not get a single word out.

Across from him, the cousin raised her head from her shyness. Her cousin was still so ugly — his nose was crooked, his mouth too big, and his eyes a bit too narrow and long.

But suddenly, something beyond mere appearance struck the cousin's heart, making her feel a little dizzy.

Cousin looks just like those great figures in Dunhuang!

All chapters have been cached for you. Download the APP to view.