Chapter 208: Under Duress

Source of *The Stubborn Bandit*:

The twenty-first day of the seventh month.

The fourth night since Liu Chengzong had left Heshui County.

Jiang Yingchang received word in Heshui County: the Lion Camp's troops were marching on Qingyang Prefecture city.

Three hundred men of the Qingyang Guard's Banner Army set an ambush at Left Ridge. Daunted by the Lion Camp's military might, their troops collapsed without a fight and fled into the barren hills. Guard Commander Guo Zining took his own life by the sword to atone.

Liu Chengzong issued a proclamation to pacify the people. The next morning, he led his subordinate officers, accompanying his father and elder brother, to ascend Qingcheng's eastern mountain and pay homage at the mausoleum of Zhou ancestor Buzhu. Afterward, they struck camp and marched south to Ningzhou.

At the same time, vanguard guerrilla commander Yang Yanchang, leading five hundred Tiger Guard, had entered Pingdingzhou in Shanxi via Jingxing and had already won his first battle.

The bandit chief he defeated was called Hill-Crossing Hawk, a veteran outlaw of Shanxi who had gathered over a thousand men and operated in the Taihang Mountains region.

Yang Yanchang struck him in a sudden attack and routed him as easily as breaking dry weeds and rotten wood.

Sometimes a man's confidence matters enormously. Having witnessed the brutal warfare of retaking the four cities of Yongping and fighting the eastern barbarians in the capital region, then turning back into Shanxi to cross hands with a bandit chief like Hill-Crossing Hawk, who had fought nothing but three years of shoddy plundering skirmishes — Yang Yanchang felt not the slightest psychological pressure.

Five hundred against two thousand.

He divided his troops into five reconnoitering columns and pressed forward. They converged from four sides, their formation surging in a long drive, chasing the routed and pursuing the fleeing.

A clean, neat, and beautiful victory.

They killed over eighty, captured more than four hundred — his men nearly caught one prisoner apiece.

At the edge of the battlefield, Yang Yanchang released his horse and sat on a rock on the mountainside to rest, his eyes full of worry, uncertain of the road ahead, sighing that a man in this harsh world is not master of his own fate.

He had finally ended that bizarre journey of being sent to aid the throne by a rebel leader.

The mission Liu the Lion had entrusted to him had been carried out disastrously. The two hundred warhorses were like meat buns thrown at a dog — a loss so total he was left with his pants forfeited.

But for himself, the gains were immense.

He had been appointed by the Ministry of War as Assistant Commander-in-Chief, and issued a crimson official robe and a tiger rank badge.

Still of the upper third rank, his military merit title was elevated from Light Chariot Commandant to the prestige rank of Illustrious and Resolute General, with the field assignment of Regional Commander garrisoning Yan'an Prefecture.

He felt that this time, upon returning to Yan'an Prefecture, he would have to find a way to look up the clan genealogy.

He was probably already the highest-ranking man in his clan in two hundred years — an honor to his ancestors.

But more important than rank was experience.

In the past, in Yan'an Guard, seeing military households so starved they sold wives and children begging to survive and still could not, he had thought nothing of it.

The military households had long been finished. At most, the drought had made the scale of the ruin a little larger, extending it to Yan'an Guard, that was all.

But from northern Shaanxi to the capital region, from the provinces to the imperial court —

he discovered that northern Shaanxi had become this way not because of drought, not because of individual wealth or poverty, but because the entire realm had gone wrong.

The drought had only made northern Shaanxi the most fragile piece of land, crushed under the pressure.

The realm had certainly gone terribly wrong. What exactly the problem was, he could not say clearly.

He only knew that if the realm had not gone terribly wrong, a man like him could not possibly have been a probationary centurion without a substantive post last year, and a third-rank Assistant Commander-in-Chief this year.

"General, we've questioned them all. Hill-Crossing Hawk is an old bandit."

A veteran soldier approached, hand on his saber.

The veteran was named Liu Xiangshan. In truth, he was only somewhat older in years and had been a soldier for barely more than a year.

By seniority, he was Liu Chengzong's uncle. He had studied for a few years in the clan school early on, and later received militia training under Liu Xiangyu.

Earlier, as a squad commander of Yan'an Guard, he had taken his three sons to the capital to aid the throne. In the battles to recover the four cities of Yongping, two of his sons had died one after another in the ranks.

One was struck by a cannonball from surrendered troops beneath the walls of Luanzhou; the other, during a night ambush of fleeing soldiers, was shot in the face at close range by a Tartar's bow.

In exchange, he had taken the heads of two Tartars and three surrendered soldiers. Now Liu Xiangshan was a battalion commander of Yan'an Battalion, and his son Liu Chengguang was a company commander of Yan'an Battalion.

Liu Xiangshan said, "This man started as a roadside bandit, making his fortune in the seventh year of the Tianqi reign. That year, the garrison eunuch of Datong, Zhang Shoucheng, cut the fodder pay of the Yanghe Garrison's elite troops. The elite troops mutinied, and he took in a few veteran soldiers. Afterward, he roamed between Datong and Taiyuan."

As he spoke, Liu Xiangshan pointed at the prisoners kneeling all over the ground and said, "This bandit is a clever one. Seeing the situation turn bad, he took his squad and ran. The prisoners are mostly mountain folk and commoners who were coerced."

Even if Liu Xiangshan had not said it, Yang Yanchang could have guessed. These prisoners had almost no equipment — at most hunting bows, simple pole-swords, and short spears. Among over four hundred men, not a single waist saber or suit of armor could be found. They could not even be called rebels.

"They're all just wretched souls. Uncle, let them go."

Yang Yanchang had always been very respectful toward Liu Xiangshan. In truth, he was very respectful toward all his subordinates.

Those two tigers of the Liu family were each fiercer than the other — he dared not take any liberties.

"We can't release them, General. Have you forgotten? General Cao said all spoils of war must be reported to him."

Reminded by Liu Xiangshan, Yang Yanchang said, "Right, right, then send someone to report to General Cao."

Yang Yanchang's mind was in turmoil; his thoughts were simply not on these matters.

Seeing Liu Xiangshan nod and turn to pass the order, he called him back: "Let someone else handle this. I have something to discuss with you, Uncle."

Liu Xiangshan saw his deeply troubled expression, nodded, entrusted the order to someone else, had the Liu family men set a thirty-pace perimeter, and stepped forward to ask, "What is it?"

Yang Yanchang glanced around and said quietly, "We're already in Shanxi. What do we do from here?"

"Cao Wenzhao is right behind us. We suppress rebels for the court." Liu Xiangshan glanced at him. "What else can we do?"

Yang Yanchang realized Liu Xiangshan did not understand. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Suppressing rebels is not the problem. A battle like today's, I could fight it any number of times. Du Wenhuan wants Cao Wenzhao to fight his way across Shanxi to Fugu and attack Wang Jiayin. Do you really want to fight Wang Jiayin?"

If they could truly defeat him, then fighting anyone would be no problem. The problem was that Wang Jiayin was a major bandit whom even Du Wenhuan found thorny.

"Besides, once Wang Jiayin is dealt with, and no one is left to cooperate with Yan'an, do you truly intend to lead troops against your brother and nephew?"

Yang Yanchang spoke these words with an air of casual indifference, but his eyes were fixed intently on Liu Xiangshan's face.

Liu Xiangshan's face was expressionless. "That depends on what the General thinks. Whatever orders the General gives, we subordinates will carry them out."

A round of mutual probing had yielded no result.

Yang Yanchang swallowed. All he could be certain of was that Liu Xiangshan was telling the truth.

But he could not be certain what Liu Xiangshan meant.

This force, born of the Yan'an Guard's autonomous operation, had undergone a slight change on the return journey from aiding the throne, due to the addition of the Guanning Army.

Whatever orders he gave, his subordinates would carry them out.

Was it him giving the order and his subordinates carrying it out;

or him giving the order to strike Liu Chengzong and his subordinates killing him instead;

or him giving the order not to strike Liu Chengzong and his subordinates killing him anyway?

Right now, Yang Yanchang couldn't even sort out his own inner leanings when faced with high office and rich rewards.

Let alone what the common folk in the Liu family who held actual military power would be thinking now that they had become commanders.

What he feared most was not Cao Wenzhao, not Wang Jiayin, not Liu Chengzong.

It was Liu Xiangshan and those other Liu family men in the army.

"Uncle Xiangshan, whatever others do, you and I are grasshoppers tied to the same rope." Yang Yanchang said urgently, "Whatever I think, whatever I do, I must discuss it with you first."

Liu Xiangshan nodded lightly, a look of sorrow on his face, and said, "Cao Wenzhao must stay alive. I need to return to Yan'an."

Yang Yanchang echoed, "Yes, the brothers must be laid to rest in the end."

He was referring to the twenty-seven men of Yan'an Garrison who had died in battle while marching to the capital to serve the king, plus one soldier who had died of illness — twenty-eight corpses in all, all placed in coffins and carried behind by Wang Ziyong's men.

The normal routes now, whether crossing through Shanxi into Shaanxi or following the Great Wall to deliver them to Yulin, were all impassable. The bodies could not be sent home ahead of time.

That route through Yonghe Pass — Shanxi was crawling with bandits everywhere; the Great Wall route had been turned into a battlefield by Wang Jiayin.

Though even bandits wouldn't rob coffins, coffins still needed carts and horses to haul them.

And now, Liu Xiangshan's meaning was clear: without Cao Wenzhao's Guanning Army contingent, they alone had no way to return to Yan'an safely and soundly.

Unless they tore off the mask of government troops.

Yang Yanchang asked, "And after we return to Yan'an Prefecture?"

In truth, he only wanted to ask about two matters: how to deal with Wang Jiayin, and how to deal with Liu Chengzong.

"Deal with" did not mean fight. It meant how to maximize the benefits for their unit. Going head-to-head with those two — never mind benefits, they might well throw their lives away in the process.

Liu Xiangshan didn't know either. He sighed and said, "We'll take it one step at a time. This also depends on Wang Ziyong. Following Cao Wenzhao on campaigns in every direction to suppress bandits, I'm left with only Chengguang as my son. Sooner or later, we'll all be dead."

"I also feel we must break free of him."

Yang Yanchang's wording was very precise. He did not want Cao Wenzhao dead; he only hoped to free himself from Cao Wenzhao's command.

There were hardly any Regional Commanders left in northern Shaanxi now. If Cao Wenzhao died, the court would inevitably order him to rush about in every direction.

Yang Yanchang might well have been the military officer in all the Great Ming least eager to earn merit.

He was perfectly satisfied with his current rank. His mind was filled with fantasies of returning to Yan'an Prefecture — he would stabilize Yan'an Prefecture's military affairs on the surface, while Liu Chengzong controlled everything in Yan'an Prefecture from the shadows.

Liu Chengzong could go to Qingyang if he wanted, go to Shanxi if he wanted, go to Guanzhong if he wanted. Every time he returned laden with spoils, they'd fight one battle — from Qingyang fight into Shanxi, from Shanxi fight into Qingyang.

The two of them could fight like that for a lifetime, until the earth grew old and the sky wasted away. How fine that would be.

But as for how exactly to break free of Cao Wenzhao, Yang Yanchang didn't know. He said, "We can only take it one step at a time. If there truly is no other way, then we'll just have to find a way to get them killed."

Whoa!

Liu Xiangshan shot him a sidelong glance. So General Yang, you've got that ruthless streak in you after all?

Feeling his gaze, Yang Yanchang smiled sheepishly and said, "Only one chance. We still have to put caution first. Either we don't do it, or we do it cleanly... Here they come."

The one coming was Cao Bianjiao, Cao Wenzhao's nephew. Two years older than Liu Chengzong, young and promising, he had followed his uncle in fighting the eastern barbarians and had already accumulated enough military merit to rise to Mobile Corps Commander.

He did not come alone. He brought a squad of Liao troops with him, all carrying ropes with relaxed expressions. On command, they tied up the captives, every one of them grinning — their military discipline did not look very good.

Cao Bianjiao, however, had a stern expression. As he advanced, his body stood ramrod straight, and he strode over with head held high.

Yang Yanchang went forward to meet him. Cao Bianjiao first knelt in salute, and after rising, glanced at the captives not far away before saying to Yang Yanchang, "General Yang, the Deputy Commander has ordered that all captives be beheaded and their corpses exposed in the wilderness. Do not tidy up; continue the advance."

With that, Cao Bianjiao presented the order bearing the official seal with both hands and said, "This is the military order."

"All... all of them beheaded?"

Yang Yanchang took the military order, read it through in disbelief, then turned his head to look at Liu Xiangshan. As he spoke, he turned toward Cao Bianjiao: "Squad Commander Liu, could it be that the messenger didn't make it clear? These people are merely coerced mountain folk..."

Cao Bianjiao cupped his hands and said, "General Yang, General Liu's messenger did not make any mistake. But the military order stands as written. Please carry it out — behead all captives and expose their corpses."

Yang Yanchang swallowed, his gaze shifting back and forth between the faces of Cao Bianjiao and Liu Xiangshan.

He had never seen such a thing before, nor had he ever done such a thing.

In fact, ever since the mutinies and popular uprisings began in northern Shaanxi, he had never even heard of any commander, after defeating bandit forces, slaughtering all the coerced common folk.

Even when bandits defeated government troops, they never slaughtered all the government troops who refused to rebel.

Between the mountains of Shanxi and Shaanxi, on this land, such a thing had never happened before!

Everyone here, whether they joined the army or joined the bandits, did it to stay alive. To stay alive, they had no choice but to kill each other. But when the killing was over, even government troops dealing with bandits — apart from the ringleaders, those who could be recruited were recruited, and those who couldn't were let go.

Though the local common folk didn't like it, the local officials would always allocate them land to settle on.

The court had failed at disaster relief and owed back pay for years. Everyone carried guilt in their hearts.

The skin on Yang Yanchang's face went numb; he could only use a smile to ease the awkwardness. "They are fellow townsmen with Commander Cao and with you, young General Cao. Come to think of it, you're all from Shanxi..."

But before he could finish, Cao Bianjiao cut him off with a rigid, by-the-book salute. "General Yang, we are the army, they are bandits. Between army and bandits, how can there be any allowance for the bond of fellow townsmen?"

Yang Yanchang looked at the captives being tied up by the grinning Liao troops not far away. His mind was already in chaos; he couldn't think at all. Persuading Cao Bianjiao was useless against a military order, but he still tried his best to dissuade him: "They are just mountain folk. Can young General Cao not see it just by looking at them?"

"Among the spoils, not a single suit of armor. Over seventy bows, and not one with a draw weight exceeding fifty catties."

Cao Bianjiao was unmoved, his face expressionless like a machine. "Military orders are like mountains. Does General Yang intend to defy orders?"

Yang Yanchang was a man whom reality had hammered into a coward.

He was used to putting on a smiling face — for the rebels, for friendly troops, for his subordinates. For over a year now, there had been no one around him who let him stand and speak with a straight spine.

He couldn't afford to offend any of them.

But even when he was under others' thumbs, those people would still give him face.

Only this time, Cao Bianjiao would not budge an inch, and a great anger burned in his heart.

The smile on Yang Yanchang's face gradually chilled, and he spoke almost through gritted teeth: "Defy orders? What the hell kind of insane order is this — treating human lives like weeds!"

"I'm the Yan'an Regional Commander, not the goddamn Yansui Regional Commander! If you want them killed, you kill them — you go do it!"

Cao Bianjiao said nothing, his face still expressionless, only his gaze fixed steadily on him.

Yang Yanchang regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

This Cao Bianjiao looked remarkably like his uncle, both built as solidly as young oxen.

He figured that if this fellow went berserk, he himself would likely be nothing more than material for a ghost beneath the blade.

But Cao Bianjiao did not draw his sword. He merely looked at him for a moment, then shifted his gaze toward the place where the captives were being held. Only once the captives were all securely bound did he turn back, cup his hands in salute, nod, and say in an even tone:

"This humble officer accepts the order."

With that, Cao Bianjiao raised a hand and swept it down toward that side.

The Liao troops, who moments before had been lounging and chatting idly, transformed in an instant. Over forty men, superbly drilled, fanned out in all directions and took up positions around the perimeter of the captive group. At a single command from their squad leader, every man drew his blade and hacked into the mass of captives.

In that moment, blood flowed across the ground and wails of agony filled the wilderness.

The soldiers of the Yan'an Battalion stared on, utterly dumbstruck.

"General Yang, by disbanding those coerced into service today, you tell all under heaven that following the rebels carries no crime. Tomorrow, when the rebel leaders apply a little pressure, they will follow again. We who serve our sovereign do not begrudge hardship and toil, but if we fight on like this, when will we ever fulfill His Majesty's charge?"

Against the background noise of pleading and weeping, Cao Bianjiao looked at Yang Yanchang with a complex expression. In his eyes there was pity, but also envy.

He said: "Does the General know how many Liao commoners and Han soldiers beyond the passes have been coerced into following the eastern slaves, only to turn around and kill their fellow Han? For over ten years, fathers and sons have slaughtered each other, uncles and nephews have killed one another. Countless have died under the blades of their own kin. Once a Han shaves his head, he becomes an eastern slave with no road back. Are we supposed to wait for the eastern slaves' hair to grow out?"

"Those coerced... deserve death too!"

"Stubborn Bandits" — verified chapters will continue to update on