Chapter 811: No Money, Then It Doesn't Count... Right?

In the fifth year of Shaoming, in the seventh month, one hundred and twenty li south of Lhasa, on the north bank of the Yangchab Zangbo River, lay Qushui City.

The so-called Yangchab Zangbo River is what later generations call the Yarlung Tsangpo, and Qushui City is what later generations call Qushui County.

Since ancient times, this has been the transportation hub connecting Lhasa to Shannan, Nyingchi, Shigatse, and other places.

Upon hearing that the Tang people had occupied Lhasa, the feudal lords of Qingtang from all over jointly raised Zhaxi Degun of the Ali royal line, who held Purang (Burang County), as their king.

Feudal lords from Shannan, Nyingchi, and other places also sent troops to join, and the allied army, a vast force of forty-seven or forty-eight thousand cavalry and infantry, swore a blood oath together to drive the Tang people out of Lhasa.

Li Cunhui, however, struck first, leading his army south to seize the critical point of Qushui City, preventing the war from being drawn directly to the outskirts of Lhasa.

The founder of this Ali royal line was actually an old acquaintance of mine, Sage Zhang — none other than that Jide Nimagun who also styled himself a btsanpo.

But after their brief honeymoon period, once Zhang Zhao's power withdrew from India, Transoxiana, and Anxi, and shifted his attention to the east, Jide Nimagun very quickly said goodbye to Zhang Zhao.

The present Ali region should actually be called the Greater Ali region, because besides containing the Ali region of the later Republic, it also included the vast majority of what would later be the Kashmir region.

At this time, going south from the Ali region led directly to a place that made my blood vessels explode just hearing about it.

The Zhenyuan Kingdom, which he had created himself, thinking it could serve as a bridgehead for controlling India, with what later generations would call the Islamic stronghold of Pakistan as its capital.

The ruler of the Zhenyuan Kingdom, Zhang Bingzhong, was originally a man of the Lesser Bolu kingdom in the Pamir region.

After the Lesser Bolu kingdom was destroyed by Gao Xianzhi, the Great Tang established the Pamir Garrison here as territory under actual Tang control.

The people of Lesser Bolu were likely a mixture of Tocharian stock from Kashgar and Han-Tibetan blood.

When the Central Plains of Han and Tang were strong, they, along with their neighboring Tate people (ancestors of the Tajiks), jointly called themselves the descendants of the Han sun and heavenly seed.

That is to say, they believed their tribe was descended from a princess of the Central Plains and the people who had followed her eastward.

This was in fact a narrative of mixed Han and Indo-European blood, and also a symbol of the strength of Han and Tang.

Even during the years when the Great Tang controlled the Pamirs, the upper strata of their tribe could still barely understand Chinese.

Every time he thought of this, Zhang Zhao was speechless. With such good relations with the Central Plains, Zhang Bingzhong's cousin's daughter Cao Yanmian was even one of Zhang Zhao's four consorts, Consort Cao.

Yet as soon as the old fellow had secured his footing in the Zhenyuan Kingdom, he colluded with Jide Nimagun and even married Jide Nimagun's daughter, clearly intending to make the Zhenyuan Kingdom entirely his own domain.

But by now, Jide Nimagun had passed away, and his three sons — Beiji Ribagun, Zhaxi Degun, and Dezu Gun — had divided the Ali dynasty into three parts and set themselves up separately.

And the Zhaxi Degun who was raised as king this time was the strongest of them. The one Zhang Bingzhong married was none other than Zhaxi Degun's full sister.

This time, his dream of fighting his way into Lhasa and becoming btsanpo of all Qingtang was instigated by Zhang Bingzhong behind the scenes.

This ruler of the Zhenyuan Kingdom was now finding it hard to eat or sleep in peace. He had never imagined that Zhang Zhao could actually become Emperor of the Central Plains.

He had originally thought Zhang Zhao would surely dash his head against this utterly impossible dream, and that was an important reason he had dared to shut his doors and play at being a great king.

Now, seeing that he had provoked a colossal disaster, he naturally wanted to instigate more people to board the same boat as him, only then might there be a chance to resist.

Li Cunhui was not anxious at all. He had not even put on his armor. The opposing allied army had arrived in early May, and now it was already late July, yet battle still had not broken out. The two sides remained in a standoff across the Yangchab Zangbo River.

But the south bank where the enemy was camped and its surroundings had originally been the territory of the Lhasa royal line. Now that even the btsanpo had surrendered, Li Cunhui did not believe the lesser nobles and commoners below could still have much will to fight.

And the allied army opposite, the vast majority of whom had come from afar, could hardly carry much baggage and supplies given the transportation conditions of the Qingtang plateau. Their grain and fodder would certainly have to be provided by the local feudal nobles south and west of Qushui City.

This was no small amount — nearly fifty thousand troops, plus several thousand mules and horses. Men eating and horses feeding, even mountains of gold and silver could not sustain it.

Meanwhile, the Zhou army's baggage and supplies had long been stockpiled in the region of the Female Kingdom, that is, around what later generations call Yushu City.

As soon as the snow melted a little, the Huangshui Prefecture, the Songpan Pacification Commissioner, and the Kangding Pacification Commissioner conscripted over a hundred thousand laborers and more than twenty thousand yaks to begin transporting supplies toward Lhasa. Combined with earlier captures, there was no need to worry about provisions at all.

So Li Cunhui calmly and patiently waged a war of attrition against the enemy. He simply did not believe that the nobles under the former Lhasa royal line, who were responsible for supplying the allied army with grain, could hold out.

Sure enough, ten days later, on the fifth day of the eighth month, sentries in the watchtower Li Cunhui had erected on a hilltop spotted turmoil breaking out in the enemy's great camp.

Then that very night, people claiming to be from the Gyantse and Qonggyai areas swam across to the north bank, saying they were willing to act as inside agents for the great army.

Li Cunhui paid them no mind at all. He had them all beheaded and their corpses thrown into the river. What kind of joke was this? They sent just a few stray cats and expected to win his trust?

Whether it was true or false, Li Cunhui felt the local magnates opposite had not yet reached the point of truly being unable to hold on. Until he saw the big fish appear in person, he would take no action.

Another ten days passed. The Zhou army was celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival on the fifteenth of the eighth month when someone made a detour of over a hundred li from further downstream on the Yangchab Zangbo River and came in person to Li Cunhui's camp seeking an audience.

The visitor was none other than Shang Meixinya, the head of the Mo'lu clan. The moment he entered the camp he collapsed weeping on the ground. It turned out the turmoil in the allied army ten days earlier had been triggered by his family.

As a result, several hundred of Shang Meixinya's personal followers and retainers had been killed. The allied army's chosen king, Zhaxi Degun, had also detained Shang Meixinya's eldest son and nephew, declaring that if the Mo'lu clan and others did not supply military provisions on time again, he would kill his entire family.

"Lord Cunhui, that Zhaxi Degun has no intention of entering Lhasa at all, because he knows the might of the Great Tang.

That swine of a man simply wants to keep these fifty thousand troops in his grip, and once he has eaten us locals into ruin, seize our lands."

The gray-haired, gray-bearded Shang Meixinya wept with snot and tears streaming down his face. He had now suffered a great loss. Had he known earlier, he would have been better off submitting to these Tang people.

Li Cunhui burst out laughing on the spot. This Zhaxi Degun really did have some skill after all — no wonder he could stubbornly maintain a standoff even under such unfavorable conditions.

So it turned out he had never planned to march on Lhasa at all. He only wanted to drain the strength of these powerful families west of Lhasa, making it easier for him to swallow them up.

Zhaxi Degun's power base was in Purang, that is, what later generations call Burang County of the Republic and the western regions of Nepal — a full two thousand five hundred li from Lhasa.

At such a distance, even if he fought his way into Lhasa, unless he was willing to move to Lhasa itself, he could not control it.

But entering Lhasa would mean leaving his power base far behind, and then he would most likely end up like Chiwang Xuzan, held in someone else's grip.

In that case, he might as well simply ruin the local magnates south and west of the Yangchab Zangbo River, such as the Mo'lu clan.

Then he could annex territory close to his power base in Purang and elsewhere — far better than running into Lhasa to be a puppet.

Shang Meixinya had fully expected that the moment Li Cunhui heard this, he would immediately believe him and eagerly ask whether he had any way to cross the river. He never expected Li Cunhui to let out a few sneering laughs.

"If Zhaxi Degun is so sensible, why should I cross the river to fight him?

After all, this land of Qingtang is not something we Han and sons of Tang can control. The court only needs to hold Lhasa.

As for Zhaxi Degun, give him a title like king or marquis. As long as he is willing to bow his head and act humble, then it's good for you, good for me, good for everyone."

Having said that, he did not listen to Shang Meixinya's explanations, and had him driven out again.

Because the time had still not come. Local magnates like Shang Meixinya could still provide a certain amount of grain and fodder. These fellows hedged their bets; unless they were made to feel pain to the marrow of their bones, they would never understand the benefits of submitting to the Central Plains.

Moreover, just as Zhaxi Degun thought, Li Cunhui also wanted to severely weaken these local strongmen. Since Zhaxi Degun was willing to do the work, why not enjoy it?

On the twenty-fifth of the eighth month, Shang Meixinya came running again. This time he truly could not hold out any longer.

Still outside the command tent, he led a group of local magnates from the south bank of the Yangchab Zangbo River, kowtowing with every step, prostrating their way all the way into Li Cunhui's great camp.

And behind Shang Meixinya and the others stood several dozen shabbily dressed monks — these were hidden former Buddhist monks of the south bank.

Shangmei Xinya had brought them over to express his willingness to convert to the Six Dharma Sect.

After that, he had three large chests of treasures carried in, all manner of Tibetan gemstones and gold and silver vessels, and it truly looked as if he had emptied out everything the family had stored away at the bottom of their chests.

A bashful, coy beauty was also pushed forward by Shangmei Xinya.

"This is the second daughter of the Qiongjie family on the south bank of the river. I wonder if she might catch the eye of the Duke of Wei."

Li Cunhui took one look and—oh ho! She was indeed very beautiful, and washed clean and fair, unlike other sturdy Tibetan women who always carried the smell of not having bathed all year. Just catching that fragrant little scent, he was already three parts won over.

In truth, one cannot blame me, Li Sanlang, for being fond of women. Throughout history, fierce and peerless generals like him have always had great needs in certain respects.

Take Chang Yuchun in history, for example. After the Prince of Kaiping went on campaign, so long as it was not the eve of a decisive battle, he favored sturdy women most of all; if none were available, a young cow was not entirely unacceptable either.

Li Cunhui was exactly like that. Just turned thirty, he already had nearly forty wives and concubines, and it was said he himself did not even know how many children he had. His Brocade Guard personal troops counted for him: a full thirty-seven.

So much so that despite his exalted rank as Duke of Wei, Zhang Zhao still had to help support him from time to time, otherwise his household could not even keep up its proper display.

This also shows how extraordinary Murong Xinzhang was. Among peerless commanders of every dynasty who stood so close to the Emperor, those able to suppress their inner desires numbered only a few, such as Wei Qing a thousand years ago and Xu Da four or five hundred years later.

However, although Li Cunhui was lustful, he was also utterly shameless!

He liked women very much, and he liked gold and silver very much too, but so long as he felt the time was not yet right, he would swallow the sugar coating and throw the cannonball right back.

I've taken your money and your woman, but I can still refuse to do the job!

If no money is paid, then it doesn't count as whoring!

Still, after his previous failure, Shangmei Xinya had apparently made inquiries into the reputation of me, Li the Duke of Wei, and he had prepared a trump card.

When he saw Li Cunhui shamelessly preparing to say a few polite words and then wrap his arm around the little beauty of the Qiongjie family and go off to enjoy himself in the rear, Shangmei Xinya called out in a deep voice:

"Duke of Wei, among the allied army across the river there are three hundred armored soldiers of the Zhenyuan Kingdom. The ruler of Zhenyuan, Zhang Bingzhong, is none other than Zhaxi Degun's own brother-in-law!"

What! Li Cunhui's expression turned stern. He strode forward and grabbed Shangmei Xinya by the collar. "Could it be that Zhenyuan Kingdom in India?"

"Exactly so!" Shangmei Xinya had long since made thorough inquiries. Not only did he know that there were three hundred armored soldiers of Zhenyuan in the allied army, he even knew the roster of their officers.

"You should know that speaking recklessly comes with a price!" Li Cunhui was truly anxious now.

Because he knew that the ruler of Zhenyuan, Zhang Bingzhong, was the person his imperial foster father hated most. If there really were armored soldiers of Zhenyuan across the river, then he absolutely had to capture them all and bring them back.

"I am willing to sign a military pledge. If there are none, then let the Duke of Wei strike off my head!"

"Good!" Li Cunhui shouted. "Murong Xinchun, take five hundred Beigui Iron Cavalry, cross the river with the Great Shang, and use fireworks as the signal."

The fact that Shangmei Xinya and his men had been able to cross the river several times to reach the Zhou army camp proved that they must have a very well-hidden ford.

Otherwise, with the enemy army's scouts spread over thirty-some li along the river searching at all times, it would have been impossible for them to cross whenever they pleased.

Murong Xinchun immediately took his orders and left. Of the ten thousand infantry and cavalry Li Cunhui had brought this time, there were five hundred Beigui Iron Cavalry from the Hanshan Capital and five hundred Iron Horse Capital troops of the Right Yulin Guard.

Among them, the Beigui Iron Cavalry Battalion was commanded by Murong Xinchun. Although this man had at most the command ability of a Chief Military Inspector, his martial prowess was formidable. Apart from a few men such as his cousin Murong Xinzhang, he rarely met his match, which made him perfect for charging the enemy line.

On the south bank of the river, not long after Shangmei Xinya and the others left, someone reported their movements to Zhaxi Degun. After all, Shangmei Xinya had scraped together his remaining gold and silver and crossed the river with several dozen men; the commotion was not exactly small.

Zhaxi Degun did not care in the least, because he wanted to drive Shangmei Xinya and his people away. Only by driving them off could he conveniently swallow up their lands near the Tsang region.

Moreover, Zhaxi Degun also knew that Shangmei Xinya and his men must have a secret ford somewhere, but Zhaxi Degun was still not afraid.

His scouts had extended their reconnaissance range to fifty li both upriver and downriver, giving ample warning time. Every high point along the river also had a watchtower, so any movement of the opposing army was essentially transparent.

"Btsanpo, the Tang people across the river have sent out about five or six hundred cavalry, heading downstream." Sure enough, before long a trusted general came to report.

Zhaxi Degun looked around the tent at the various Dongdai, marshals, deputy generals, and chieftains and laughed heartily. "The Zhou people think they can break my fifty thousand troops with five hundred cavalry? An ant trying to shake a great tree—they overestimate themselves!"

Order the scouts along the route to keep close watch on movements downstream. The main army will still focus on preventing the Zhou army from crossing the river. So long as the enemy's main force cannot cross, these five hundred cavalry are merely coming to throw their lives away."

On the twenty-eighth day of the eighth month, Li Cunhui mustered his main force of thirty thousand and began attempting to cross the river in a fierce assault.

This indeed made Zhaxi Degun all the more convinced of his own judgment. He deployed his heavy infantry and strong archers to the riverbank to fight a bloody battle with the Zhou main force.

As for downstream, he left three thousand elite cavalry and two thousand light cavalry, and set up obstacles of abatis and stones at key points throughout the camp for defense.

In Zhaxi Degun's thinking, with ten times the troops holding a fortified position, was he supposed to fear a mere five hundred cavalry attacking?

On the twenty-ninth day of the eighth month, the five hundred cavalry led by Murong Xinchun arrived two li south of the main camp of Zhaxi Degun's allied army.

Murong Xinchun saw that the opposing camp was tightly arrayed, with several thousand cavalry circling it, and several thousand laborers as well who could hold bows and wooden spears in defense behind chevaux-de-frise and earthen walls. There was simply no way to charge in.

So he simply led his troops to fall back and hold a small hill, had his men remove their armor and loudly curse the enemy from the hilltop, and ordered his sharpshooters to keep firing fox tails, prepared long in advance, into the enemy camp.

Sending fox tails was the most insulting gesture between Tibetan men. Historical records of Tibetan custom say that the brave were rewarded with tiger and leopard skins, while cowards were shamed with fox tails.

Although the Tibetan deputy general left to guard the camp was a cautious and experienced commander, he truly found such insults unbearable. He ordered his light cavalry to scout in all directions, and once he confirmed that the Tang people really had only these five hundred cavalry, he immediately decided to march out and meet the enemy.

The enemy had only five hundred men, and they had dared to dismount, remove their armor, and hurl abuse. If he still did not dare to go out, then in the future, not to mention the gzhi (military households) under his command, even ordinary yung (civilian households) would look down on him. That man would be ruined.

When Murong Xinchun saw that he had drawn the enemy out, he was overjoyed. He ordered his cavalry to dismount and form ranks on the hillside, defending with strong bows and heavy crossbows.

The Tibetans, relying on their tenfold numerical advantage, spurred their horses straight up the hill. But this was the Beigui Iron Cavalry Battalion! With sixty or seventy divine-arm crossbows plus other fine bows and crossbows forming a great crossbow formation, and with the advantage of terrain, how could it be so easy to charge?

The more than four thousand Tibetan cavalry charged three times in succession. Apart from three or four hundred men shot dead or wounded, they did not so much as touch a single hair of the Beigui Iron Cavalry Battalion. Instead, the fallen men and horses blocked the path.

The Tibetan deputy general's face was so black it seemed about to drip water. He looked left and right, then steeled himself. First he brought out the more than two thousand laborers from behind the chevaux-de-frise and ordered them to form ranks with wooden spears and hunting bows, blocking the road down the hill at the foot of the slope to serve as living chevaux-de-frise.

Then he ordered one thousand light cavalry to hold the flanks, five hundred on each side, while the remaining three thousand-odd cavalry all dismounted. Those in heavy armor with round shields went to the front, while those in light armor or no armor with foot bows went behind.

Since my cavalry can't break through, then I'll just use heavy infantry to squeeze them. Let's see what you do then!

Murong Xinchun punched his fist in excitement and whispered excitedly to the officers around him: "Gentlemen, the chance for merit has come! If we spur our horses and charge now, we can surely smash through the Tibetan formation!"

"In today's battle, the first merit will be ours. I only wonder who will win this great merit of a count's title passed down for three generations."

According to the Zhang Zhou military merit and nobility system, a victory like this—one against a hundred with enormous results—would certainly earn a count's title.

Even if it could not be inherited in perpetuity, after three generations of step-down inheritance, it could still shelter one's descendants with a fifteenth-rank Martial Merit Grand Master military rank. To call it a single step to heaven would not be an exaggeration.

Everyone naturally knew this, and every face showed an expression of extreme excitement, their fighting spirit soaring to the clouds.

At that moment, the Tibetan infantry below the hill had already cleared away the bodies of men and horses and were preparing to attack uphill.

'Woo-woo-woo!' A burst of conch horn calls rang out from the hill. The five hundred cavalry of the Beigui Iron Cavalry Battalion, wearing cotton armor and gripping cavalry lances, charged downhill amid earth-shaking battle cries!

The Tibetan deputy general let out a miserable howl, his face deathly pale. Just now, to defend against the enemy's arrows, his front-rank armored soldiers had not brought long spears at all, but instead carried Shangma swords and round shields. How could that withstand the impact of iron cavalry?

The deputy general bellowed loudly, calling for his armored soldiers to switch to long spears, and the rear-rank archers immediately began volley fire.

But the Beigui Iron Cavalry Battalion wore heavy armor and did not care in the slightest about these arcing arrows. With a great clang, the screams of the Tibetans rose one after another.

The impact of five hundred armored riders charging downhill was terrifying; many Tibetans were simply sent flying through the air.

Murong Xinzhang was quick-eyed and quick-handed. He spotted the Tibetan deputy general directing the battle in the distance, let out a great shout, and loosed three arrows in succession. The deputy general screamed and toppled from his horse. The Tibetan armored soldiers around him, seeing this, fled to either side in even greater panic.

With even their commanders in such a state, how could the peasant conscripts holding wooden spears dare to hold formation? The Beiwei Iron Cavalry Battalion was still more than two hundred paces away when these conscripts scattered in a single rush.

The thousand light cavalry the deputy general had placed on the wings to steady the line saw the Zhou army's five hundred riders scatter several thousand infantry in an instant, and they too dared not come forward. No one knew who started it, but with a clatter they simply broke and fled on their own.

Meanwhile, by the river, the fierce battle was at its critical point. Li Cunhui had not truly been idle on the north bank these past days. On the contrary, during this time he had built a large number of small wooden boats and assembled a considerable quantity of small catapults and bed crossbows.

As soon as the battle began, the Zhou army lured the enemy's main force to the riverbank, then immediately smashed them with stones and shot them with bed crossbows. The allied army, not knowing the true situation, suffered heavy losses and could only retreat and reform its ranks.

Seizing this opportunity, Li Cunhui ordered the whole army to launch a hundred boats at once, successfully striking across to the opposite bank, and then began building a pontoon bridge.

Zhaxi Degun's dream of holding the line along the Yarlung Tsangpo River was shattered in an instant. He could only fight a positional battle by the river, and as more and more Zhou troops crossed, the allied army found it increasingly difficult to cope.

And at that very moment, Murong Xinzhang and his five hundred iron cavalry charged in. They first broke through the allied army's blocking force five hundred paces out, then lit signal fireworks to notify Li Cunhui.

After doing this, Murong Xinzhang and the five hundred iron cavalry discarded every encumbrance on their horses — things like bone maces, wrought-copper maces, hengdao sabers, bows and crossbows.

One could say that apart from the Divine Arm crossbows, which could not be abandoned, they threw away everything. Every man took up a cavalry lance and charged back and forth through the densely packed Tibetan allied troops, throwing men and horses into chaos everywhere and whipping up a sky-filling storm of blood and wind.

When Li Cunhui received the signal, he personally beat the war drum. The entire army raised the great banner of the Six Dharma Sect — a silver-white field with a golden swastika — and with a sound that shook the roof tiles, launched a full assault.

The Tibetan allied army had already been unable to hold on; now, struck suddenly by this heavy blow, they instantly collapsed into utter confusion.

Moreover, the Ngari region where Zhaxi Degun was based had always been the great stronghold of Buddhism, for it was close to India and had been least affected by Langdarma's persecution of Buddhism. Historically, the revival of Tibetan Buddhism had begun from the Ngari region.

Now they could not win the fight, and everywhere it seemed Zhou troops were charging fiercely. When they saw the great silver-white banner with the golden swastika of the Six Dharma Sect, the allied soldiers suddenly remembered all the legends of the Supreme Heaven.

And the rumor that frightened them most of all: "Those killed by the Punishment Knights of the Six Dharma Sect will have their souls imprisoned forever in the Avici Hell, never to be reborn."

Fuck, what was the point of fighting on! The allied army, which could have held out a while longer, collapsed like a mountain in the space of barely two hours. Tens of thousands of soldiers fled in every direction, or simply threw themselves to the ground and begged for mercy.

Under the protection of his trusted followers, Zhaxi Degun abandoned all his baggage and supplies and fled desperately westward toward the Bailang region.

Two days later, he had with great difficulty gathered some ten thousand men, when Li Cunhui personally led more than three thousand riders in pursuit and caught up.

The two sides fought fiercely for half a watch. Zhaxi Degun was utterly defeated again, escaping with only a hundred or so mounted guards.

On the eleventh day of the ninth month, just as Li Cunhui was feeling dejected at having failed to capture Zhaxi Degun, good news arrived from Kuba, west of Bailang.

Zhaxi Degun and his followers had been ambushed and captured by the headmen and monks of the Kuba region, and were already on the road under escort.

In this battle, Li Cunhui, with fifteen thousand infantry and cavalry plus over ten thousand Tibetan auxiliary troops, had utterly routed Zhaxi Degun's allied army of nearly fifty thousand, taking more than six thousand heads and over thirty thousand prisoners.

From Zhaxi Degun down, the nobles and headmen of various regions killed or captured numbered in the hundreds. The allied army could be said to have been completely annihilated.

In particular, the five hundred Beiwei Iron Cavalry commanded by Murong Xinzhang were rumored to be Buddhist guardian deities descended from heaven, each a match for a hundred men.

And with the fruits of this battle, the Zhou army had truly cowed the nobles great and small and the million-strong populace of the plateau.

Next, it fell to Guo Tiance to complete the rebuilding of the region's political order, especially the living Buddha system of the Six Dharma Sect.

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