Chapter 393: The Memorial from Pei Yuan

Outside the walls of Xiazhou, fifty bundles of firewood were stacked in neat rows before the gate.

Even though a thin layer of white snow covered them, to the people of Xiazhou they still could not hide that alluring gleam.

It was now New Year's Eve, a time that ought to have been filled with the lights of ten thousand homes and families gathered in celebration.

Outside the west wall and in the eastern part of Xiazhou, things were lively enough: the Guiyi Army, which had been besieging Xiazhou for more than three months, was feasting and drinking in celebration of the new year.

But in the Li clan of the Pingxia tribe in the western part of Xiazhou, never mind brilliant lights — most people could not even get a mouthful of hot food.

A handful of raw millet that chewed like sand was a meal for many.

If one could get a coarse-grain flatbread or a bowl of coarse-grain rice, even if it was so cold it was nearly frozen, even if it was on the verge of going sour, it was still a delicacy many people longed for but could not obtain.

The Guiyi Army's revelry lasted until deep into the night before it stopped; they even used trebuchets to hurl some hu flatbreads into the western city.

Every time a bundle of hu flatbread landed, the soldiers and civilians of the Pingxia tribe in the western city would fight over it like mad dogs; sometimes, for a palm-sized flatbread, several people would be killed or wounded.

At the second watch of the night, the moonlight was still fairly bright. From the western city of Xiazhou, a dozen or so furtive figures lowered themselves down from the wall on ropes. Their target was precisely the firewood the Guiyi Army had deliberately piled there.

Everyone knew the Guiyi Army outside the city had done this on purpose, but the temptation of cooked food was simply too great.

Everyone held a hope of luck: it was already the second watch — what if the Guiyi Army soldiers could not hold out and had fallen asleep?

Tuoba Chongmin was the leader of this group. He had originally been the son of the chief of a small Tuoba clan. He could not be called rich or noble in ordinary times, but when he went with his elder brother to Boiling Salt Pool to boil a little salt, life was still quite carefree.

But ever since the Guiyi Army attacked, everything had changed. His elder brother had died in battle, several dozen of the clan's able-bodied men had died in battle, Boiling Salt Pool was gone, and they had been besieged inside Xiazhou.

He had not eaten a mouthful of cooked food in half a month, and even in his dreams he longed for a bite of something hot.

The dozen or so men, wrapped in white cotton cloth, crawled forward over the snowy ground. Under the pale white moonlight, unless one looked carefully, they were truly hard to make out.

Tuoba Chongmin thought so too. He felt he had a very good chance of getting those firewood bundles, which originally were not worth three coppers for two, but were now extremely precious.

Unfortunately, all of this was nothing but their self-consolation. According to the Guiyi Army's military regulations, those on night duty — especially those guarding firewood — if they dared show the slightest negligence,

on the first offense they would be stripped of their office land, have their pay canceled, have previous rewards confiscated, and be reported to their home village.

In addition, following a custom left over from the Tibetans, a fox tail would be hung on the lintel of their door.

This was a package deal of demotion, pay cut, and social death. Many people would rather accept the second-offense punishment of immediate execution on the spot than have a fox tail hung on their door lintel.

That was tantamount to telling everyone: you are not a man, and there is not a single man in your whole family. Once that was hung up, brothers could forget about ever marrying a wife, and sisters could forget about marrying into a good family.

So when Tuoba Chongmin and his dozen or so men had just crawled to the edge of the firewood, and in their excitement were preparing to carry these precious bundles back, the twang of bowstrings sounded.

Several men were pinned to the ground before they could even rise. A few who were terrified scrambled up and ran, but they too were shot dead without surprise.

A black-haired sheep, ordinarily exceptionally fierce, tried to resist, but its head was lopped off in a single exchange.

The Guiyi Army soldiers wore thick padded coats and carried sharp hengdao sabers. Barehanded black-haired sheep were no match for them at all.

"Fuck your mother, can't you just surrender quickly? You've made your old man unable to go home for New Year's, forced to stand guard over you ball-less lot in this ice and snow."

Tuoba Chongde watched a Guiyi Army soldier holding a hengdao saber come closer and closer, and could not help but start sobbing.

Did he hate the Guiyi Army, you ask? He certainly did. He hated them so much he wished he could bite Zhang Zhao to death.

But that hatred could not overcome his longing to return to a normal life.

He wanted things to be like before: wife, children, a warm kang bed. That was enough. If he had to choose between revenge and living his life, he would definitely choose living his life.

This was in fact the choice of most ordinary people. Those who truly never wavered and were determined to take revenge were the minority, and precisely because they were few, every time one appeared, they were recorded and sung of.

To Tuoba Chongmin's surprise, no cold hengdao saber pierced his body, nor did a mace smash his skull. Instead, a steamed cake still carrying a trace of warmth was held to his lips.

With an "aowu" sound, Tuoba Chongmin let out a low growl like a beast guarding its food. Almost by instinct, Tuoba Chongmin snatched the steamed cake and began tearing at it with huge bites.

But after a few big mouthfuls, his movements slowed. Only someone who had gone months without firewood knew how precious cooked food was.

Tuoba Chongmin's great gulps turned into small, careful savoring bites.

Wang Tongxin chuckled. A man who could eat a steamed cake and weep until tears streamed down his face was exactly the best candidate for them.

The surrounding Guiyi Army soldiers were very patient. After killing, one by one, all the Tangut men who were shouting and struggling in panic, they even had the leisure to stand around and watch Tuoba Chongmin finish the last bit of the steamed cake.

"Do you know what your old men want you to do?"

Wang Tongxin squatted down and, with interest, picked up the jade pendant at Tuoba Chongmin's waist and asked.

This jade pendant of rather poor quality proved that Tuoba Chongmin had once been a petty official.

"I alone cannot deliver the city!" Tuoba Chongmin naturally knew what this officer before him wanted him to do, but he did not care. Deliver it, then — what did he have to lose?

"You need not know the rest. I have a brave man who needs to go back into the city with you. Dare you bring him in? Once it is done, your whole family will be kept safe, and you will go to Liangzhou to live a good life."

Tuoba Chongmin nodded woodenly. Then another steamed cake was handed over, and a little life finally returned to his eyes.

After eating half, he wrapped the remaining half in hemp cloth, preparing to take it back for his son, Zhou Ge'er.

Zhou Ge'er was still young and could not stomach raw food; he was already so starved he was barely breathing.

Beside Tuoba Chongmin, a Tangut soldier of the Guiyi Army was changing into the clothes of a Xiazhou man who had just been killed.

This method of using firewood to lure people out of Xiazhou had been in use for almost a month.

A month ago, the officers of the Dingnan Army still tried to control it, but now they could no longer manage.

At first, officers had organized soldiers to come down and seize the wood, but after several hundred men died, no one came so directly to seize it anymore.

Likewise, using this method to send men into the city, the Guiyi Army had already sent in nearly thirty, and had released back more than a hundred people like Tuoba Chongmin.

And the brave man going in today was a squad leader of the Hanshan Unit; he was going to lead the people inside the city.

Zhang Zhao was reading the battle report Murong Xinzhang had written to him. At the exciting parts, Great King Zhang took a big gulp of salty, fragrant butter tea.

Murong Xinzhang and his four thousand men had blocked three thousand Pishi Army soldiers by the Hun River, and at a cost of fewer than three hundred men, had nearly wiped out half of the Pishi Army.

Moreover, of those three hundred lost, more than half were men of the Zhe family. The Guiyi Army's two thousand men were far tougher than the Zhe family's men, and their armor was better too, which was why their casualties were much lower.

To be honest, Zhang Zhao had not expected Murong Xinzhang and his men to achieve such results. This also proved that the Khitan were not as formidable as Zhang Zhao had imagined.

The core gap between Zhang Zhao and Yelu Deguang was nothing more than that Yelu Deguang had thirty thousand Pishi Army soldiers, plus ten or twenty thousand elite troops.

While the elite troops Zhang Zhao could match against them numbered only a little over five thousand, not quite six thousand.

So Zhang Zhao felt that as long as he entered the Central Plains, within two or three years he would be able to contend with the Khitan.

Moreover, Zhang Zhao had a vague feeling that in military matters, Yelu Deguang was very likely inferior even to that Empress Dowager Xiao Chuo, posthumously honored with the title "Wise and Sagacious."

This Yelu Deguang's strengths lay in patching up the foundation his father Yelu Abaoji had built, in establishing various institutions for Khitan society, in learning the advanced institutions and culture of the Han people, and in laying the material foundation of the Khitan state. In actual military affairs, he was not much of a fighter.

Of course, it was also possible that in Yelu Deguang's time, the Khitan had only just annexed the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan-Yun and had not yet been able to bring their full national strength to bear, whereas by Xiao Chuo's time, the Khitan were at the height of their power.

But no matter what, for Zhang Zhao, this was an opportunity.

He considered his own talents to be twice those of that founder of the Yanzhao Sect, the master poisoner, the Axe Gang boss, the Chariot God of Gaoliang River, Second Brother Zhao.

Of course, in reckless chariot-driving Zhang Zhao surely could not compare, but in military talent, Second Brother Zhao probably could not even see Great King Zhang's taillights.

With himself in the form of a weakened Taizong of Tang, going to fight a Liao state that was not yet fully formed, he should still have an extremely high probability of a great victory.

While he was thinking, Guo Tiance came in, holding a letter in his hand. It was a memorandum written to Zhang Zhao by Pei Yuan, far away in Lingzhou.

Now the Military Governor of Lingwu, Zhang Xichong, was gravely ill, and virtually all affairs of the Lingwu Military Governorship were being handled by Pei Yuan.

Yet even with such a heavy load of government affairs, Pei Yuan had still found time to write this long memorandum to Zhang Zhao.

Just as in the question-and-answer session with Zhang Zhao back in Dunhuang, Pei Yuan reminded Zhang Zhao in the memorandum that he must have a clear understanding of his own strength.

He believed that Zhang Zhao's annexation of the four prefectures of Yin, Xia, You, and Sui from the Dingnan Army was already the limit.

With a core of only twenty or thirty military commanders under Zhang Zhao, and civil officials drawn entirely from the old Guiyi Army to hold up the structure,

although he had twenty-eight prefectures and three million people, he could not wield them as easily as arm and fingers.

With a territory of twenty-eight prefectures, merely sending men to garrison them would drain away all the capable men around Zhang Zhao.

Therefore the urgent task was not to seize more territory, but to open wide the channels of speech, to select talent without regard to origin, to vigorously promote men of learning and ability, and especially to focus on attracting talent from the Central Plains. To this end, Pei Yuan suggested opening a simplified version of the imperial examinations.

Second, Pei Yuan believed that Zhang Zhao should not contend with the Khitan for Yunzhou, because that would draw the Khitan's attention to the west.

Then Shi Jingtang would stir up trouble in the Central Plains and cut off the trade routes to Hexi, and the Khitan would begin repeatedly contesting Lingzhou, Fuzhou, and Xiazhou with the Guiyi Army.

They would not even need to break through Liangzhou. They would only need to keep pulling back and forth, so that production in Hexi and Longyou could not recover and develop.

Once such a situation arose, with Hexi and Longyou at war year after year, and the quality of life declining, popular resentment would rise.

Whether it was the Khitan or the court, they would only need to divide and buy off support to at least keep Zhang Zhao exhausted, or even force him to contract his battle lines in self-defense. The first-generation Guiyi Army had been worn down and destroyed in exactly this way.

Finally, Pei Yuan suggested that Zhang Zhao must join forces with Khotan as soon as possible to deal with the Gaochang Uyghurs.

First, the Gaochang Uyghurs were the great enemies of two generations of the Guiyi Army and the descendants of the sons of Tang in Anxi. Destroying the Gaochang Uyghurs would greatly rally people's hearts.

Second, destroying the Gaochang Uyghurs would deprive the Khitan of a foothold in the west.

As long as the Gaochang Uyghurs existed, the Khitan would only need to dispatch five thousand iron cavalry and twenty or thirty thousand light cavalry to assist, and with the Gaochang Uyghurs providing guides and military supplies, they could prevent Zhang Zhao from completely resolving the security problem in the west.

The Khitan had not yet realized the value of the Gaochang Uyghurs for a pincer attack on Zhang Zhao, so he must send a large force to settle the matter as soon as possible. Once the Khitan caught on, it would be hard to handle.

After reading all this, Zhang Zhao let out a long sigh. Not only did many of these ideas coincide with his own, but the strategy of exhausting troops aimed at Hexi and Longyou was truly deadly.

If a truly clever person were to hit Zhang Zhao with a combination of blows like this, he would not be able to withstand it.

After sighing, Zhang Zhao said with genuine feeling to Guo Tiance beside him:

"If Pei Yuying were not my right-hand man, I would have already sent Dunzhu to take men over and sink him in the Yellow River."

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