Chapter 546: The Great Player of the Southern Tang

What a fine book...

Hucile understood Zhang Zhao well enough. Du Chongwei was a dry bone in a grave — he could not even manage a deathbed struggle, and Zhang Zhao simply did not take him seriously.

What Sage Zhang wanted was to lure the Southern Tang's tens of thousands of elite imperial troops north of the Huai and annihilate them in one stroke.

Only if the Southern Tang refused to take the bait would Zhang Zhao quickly strike and seize Songzhou.

At the same time, Du Chongwei and Yelu Dilu in Songzhou, somewhat unexpectedly, did not flee either, but chose to hold fast.

In truth it was not so unexpected. It was not that Du Chongwei had not thought of running — he simply could not run.

Because the Guide Army garrisoning Songzhou was not Du Chongwei's own trusted force, and in this time and place Du Chongwei had never served as Military Governor in Songzhou.

The Guide Army's officers and men had supported him at first to get away from Kaifeng, and later because they saw Yelu Deguang's edict and believed Du Chongwei really was going to become Son of Heaven over the Central Plains.

So the entire Guide Army, from top to bottom, had boarded a pirate ship by mistake and could not get off.

If Du Chongwei chose to hold Songzhou and brought out the wealth he had extorted over many years, with the Southern Tang as a hope, the Guide Army's soldiers would still have some confidence to keep fighting with him.

But if he set out to flee to the Southern Tang, these Guide Army soldiers were local men. To ask them to risk being pursued by iron cavalry and abandon home and livelihood for hundreds of li to flee to the Southern Tang — only if the officers and men had all gone mad would they agree.

As for the Khitans, they had long since become stray dogs, and the three thousand elite horsemen Du Chongwei boasted of were entirely nonexistent. Counting the Xi men under Yelu Dilu, he had only a few hundred riders.

Given the hatred the Khitans had accumulated by plundering grain and grass all across the Central Plains, if a few hundred Khitan horsemen really did abandon the city and flee, whether they could even get out of the Huaibei region was unknown.

One must understand that in Huaibei, from the Qin and Han down to the late Qing, the stout men of Guanzhong had declined, the brave warriors of Xiliang had declined, the swift riders of Daibei and Hedong had declined too — but the martial spirit of Huaibei, though not the fiercest, had never declined at all, and was in fact steadily growing.

Notorious Khitans, carrying tall horses worth a thousand in gold, fleeing in panic through Huaibei — what difference was there between that and strolling past robbers holding a treasure bowl?

After a moment's hesitation, Du Chongwei did not flee when Murong Xinzhang arrived, and once Zhang Zhao came, he was even less able to flee.

The Zhou army surrounded Songzhou on all four sides, launching attacks from time to time to probe the weak points of Songzhou's defenses and the morale of the Guide Army.

Zhang Zhao even had the leisure to go out to the counties under Songzhou's jurisdiction — Ningling, Gushu, Yucheng, and others — to inspect the household registers and the spring plowing.

He also conscripted tens of thousands of laborers to repair the Bian River that Du Chongwei had damaged, and along the way restored some of the damaged irrigation works in the counties of Songzhou.

At first the common people were very afraid, but then they found that the Zhou soldiers did not beat anyone, much less kill anyone. Though no wages were paid, they were given food.

The food was passable too — at least they were fed their fill, and occasionally there was salted fish soup and mutton offal soup. At once the people became eager and enthusiastic.

It was only mid-second month; the spring plowing had barely begun, and it was the spring famine season. To find a place where one could eat one's fill was to leave one's wife, children, and old folks a chance to stay alive.

Even more, it was storing up enough fat on one's own body for the busy farming season soon to come!

And so a fantastical scene appeared. On one side, Songzhou was besieged and struck from time to time.

On the other side, all around Songzhou, laborers speaking in the local accent were everywhere, cheerfully dredging river channels, digging ditches, and even leveling fields.

In late second month, a section of Songzhou's southern wall was knocked down by the Zhou army. The newly re-identified Right Shenwu Army, formed from the former Later Jin imperial troops, fought with extreme ferocity and broke into the city several times.

Had Du Chongwei not sent his yabing guards to resist with their lives, and had Zhang Zhao not arranged follow-up troops because he did not intend to take Songzhou, the city would have fallen.

But Zhang Zhao only felt regret, while Du Chongwei was nearly frightened out of his wits. Now he no longer boasted of dealing the Zhou army a heavy blow or of striking from within and without. He sent out Du Hongjie for the third time, saying outright that if the Southern Tang army did not arrive soon, he would have no choice but to submit to the Zhou state.

Zhang Zhao waited outside the city. After Du Chongwei had sent out three waves of messengers, Zhang Zhao personally struck the great drum beside him.

The orderlies at once passed the word down: the encirclement of Songzhou was to be drawn tight, and no further wave of messengers was to be let out.

Zhang Zhao then assigned Huang Yingda and Wang Shenqi to lead cavalry and spread out east of Songzhou, preparing to catch the Southern Tang army coming to relieve Songzhou in a pincer.

Just as the orders were passed, Zhang Lieming, dressed like a profiteering merchant, came over and requested an audience.

Zhang Zhao looked at this rascally nephew and could not help wanting to laugh. He had to admit, dressed like this, the man really did look exactly like a profiteering merchant.

Zhang Zhao had originally thought the Zhang family of Shazhou had few men of talent, but he had now changed his view. Within the Buddhist establishment of Hexi, there were quite a number of Zhang family men.

In Zhang Zhao's wild religious reforms, the Zhang family had played no small part in smoothly blending them into the Chinese culture represented by Confucianism and Daoism.

Still, someone like Zhang Lieming, so skilled at putting on airs and playing whatever role he was given, was truly rare.

The moment Zhang Lieming saw Zhang Zhao, he came trotting over in the most fawning manner, holding up a rolled-up dossier.

"Sage, that Liu Yanzhen is most likely no famous general at all. Look at the fine things he did as Prefect of Chuzhou!"

Zhang Zhao took the dossier and looked it over, and at once understood why Zhang Lieming said this, for the dossier told of only one matter.

It was this: while Liu Yanzhen was Prefect of Chuzhou, he coveted a tract of several hundred thousand mu of farmland in Chuzhou. But in ancient times, no one would willingly sell such fine farmland unless they could not survive.

Moreover, this was several hundred thousand mu — the livelihood of more than a hundred thousand common people. It was not something that could be taken casually.

But this did not stump Liu Yanzhen. He at once thought of a fine idea. The wretch first used the excuse of dredging the nearby moat.

Then, when the crops were nearly ripe, he deliberately released river water to flood the fields, so that the people of Chuzhou, in a year of good harvest with no natural disaster, reaped almost nothing.

After the people's fields were flooded, Liu Yanzhen sent tax collectors specifically to press for payment of taxes. Unable to pay, the people could only sell their land at low prices to the servants Liu Yanzhen sent to buy up the fields.

Once the land was bought, Liu Yanzhen at once blocked up the moat again, conscripted the people to repair the fields, then sold them at fair price, keeping the most fertile for himself. From this one scheme alone, his income was beyond counting.

Zhang Zhao read until he was grinding his teeth, wishing he could drag the wretch before him right now and cut him to pieces.

Several hundred thousand mu of land! Behind it lay the livelihood of at least a hundred thousand common people.

They toiled for a whole year, and just as the harvest was in sight, when their parents, wives, and children could have eaten a full meal — he, damn him, released the water and flooded the fields. Who knew how many people had starved or been driven to death that year.

Zhang Lieming was right. A man so utterly depraved might be a ferocious military officer, but he could never be a famous general or a great commander.

From ancient times, being commander of an army has never been easy. One must understand troop deployment and battle formations, training soldiers, arranging logistics, rousing morale, astronomy and geography — all of it. It requires constant study and diligence.

A man like Liu Yanzhen, who racked his brains to harm the people, naturally had neither the time nor the willpower to truly learn how to be a good commander.

So Zhang Zhao now had a clear idea. He opened the map, looked at it, and said to Murong Xinzhang beside him:

"The Wu army comes from Xuzhou, so they will surely follow the old Bian River upstream. Then we shall wait for them at Mengzhu Marsh.

Leave Ma Yaozi here to command the siege. The main army will withdraw to the northeast of Mengzhu Marsh, first block their retreat, then strike hard!"

Liu Yanzhen in Xuzhou had no idea that Zhang Zhao had already chosen a burial ground for him. At this moment he was thoroughly uncomfortable and could not bear to stay in Xuzhou another moment.

What sort of man was he, then? He came from a military family. Though he understood nothing of leading troops in battle, his own skill in riding and archery was not poor, and in the Jiangnan region, where few practiced riding and archery, he absolutely counted as first-rate.

This was also the main reason he considered himself peerless in valor, and why some in the Southern Tang still believed he was a famous general.

However, a second-generation military man who loved riding and archery and was fairly skilled at it could not sit still. What such men loved most was hunting.

When Liu Yanzhen was in Chuzhou, almost every other day he would go out to the outskirts, call together friends, and amuse himself.

But once in Xuzhou, on the one hand, as commander-in-chief of a great army, Liu Yanzhen still knew he ought not go about amusing himself everywhere.

Besides, Hucile had been standing nearby with a cold face the whole time, and Liu Yanzhen always felt uneasy about enjoying himself.

If there was no fun to be had, and no chance to show off his pedigree as a military family's son or his prowess in routing the Zhou army, then what was the point of staying in Xuzhou?

Just when Liu Yanzhen was at his wit's end, Du Chongwei's third son, Du Hongjie, arrived wailing and sobbing.

But before Du Hongjie could even begin embellishing the danger in Songzhou, the Tang commander-in-chief's expression immediately turned grave, and he even seemed somewhat impatient.

"Rest assured, I shall personally lead the great army to relieve Songzhou, and I will make that Zhou ruler swallow his regrets and retreat!"

In the command tent, Zhang Quanyue pressed his lips together and in the end did not step forward to dissuade him, because the Youyi Army had indeed sent back word that the southern wall of Songzhou had been collapsed by the Zhou army, and they had nearly fought their way into the city.

Moreover, Zhang Quanyue had long served in the Southern Tang and naturally knew the conventions of its officialdom. The last time he had remonstrated, Liu Yanzhen had given him face and refrained from marching immediately to Songzhou.

This time, the information they had scouted basically matched Du Chongwei's plea for aid, so if he tried to dissuade him again, he would simply be failing to appreciate the situation.

Still, Hucile kept his old face cold and did not agree to marching east to relieve Songzhou.

"If the Zhou army has already smashed through Songzhou's southern wall, then taking the city is only a matter of time. And with the southern side already broken, how much longer can Du Chongwei hold out?

The city may well have fallen already. We would be better off waiting here in Xuzhou, rested and ready, and letting the Zhou army come to us."

The moment he said this, Du Chongwei's son Du Hongjie exploded. He stared at Hucile and shouted.

"My father's return to the Great Tang was recommended by the Duke of Xu! The Great Tang's heavenly troops marched north precisely to seize all of Huaibei! With Songzhou now in peril as precarious as a pile of eggs, how can we stand by and watch it die?"

Hucile was about to say something more when Liu Yanzhen slammed his palm hard onto the low table.

"Hucile, Defender of the Rear, I once respected you as a brave warrior of the battlefield, but now I see how cowardly you are!

The Sage gave me tens of thousands of elite troops, not to garrison Xuzhou for you! If I hear any more talk of fearing death, do not blame me for showing no courtesy."

Hucile flew into a rage and jabbed his finger at Liu Yanzhen. "I, Hucile, came from Anxi and have fought dozens of battles great and small — when have I ever feared death?

The Son of Heaven of Zhou clearly does not want Songzhou — what he wants is the thirty thousand elite troops here! How can the Chief Commander deliver himself to the enemy's door?"

Hucile was speaking the truth, but that phrase "deliver himself to the enemy's door" thoroughly enraged Liu Yanzhen.

"I personally led thirty thousand tigers and wolves to pacify the Min kingdom — how could I fear the men of Zhou? You, a barbarian whelp from Yong and Liang, clearly still have your heart set on the Zhou ruler!

You stay here in Xuzhou and watch. When I return victorious, I will settle accounts with you!"

Liu Yanzhen had made up his mind. He would personally lead the great army, rout the men of Zhou, and show this old barbarian that the so-called iron cavalry of Yong and Liang could never match the Great Tang's imperial guard.

Hucile's face flushed crimson, and he seemed utterly furious at Liu Yanzhen's word "barbarian whelp." Roaring and cursing, he was dragged out of the command tent. Yet his eyes were extraordinarily clear, as if he felt little real anger at all.