Chapter 775: Spirit

July 24th.

North Garrison Tower, outside Yulin City.

Zuo Maodi, the magistrate of Hancheng County, was still in a complete daze when Liu Chengzong summoned him to the battlefield.

Six days earlier, at the very moment Liu Chengzong handed his letter to Ren Quan'er, he had also dispatched a letter by fast horse to Hancheng, ordering Zuo Maodi to come at once to Yulin to observe the battle.

The reason was open and aboveboard: Liu Chengzong said he was going to attack Yulin, that the dismissed generals in the city had refused to surrender and were making a show of fighting to the death, so he needed a witness who could let the imperial court know that the old generals of Yulin were dying for the Great Ming.

Zuo Maodi had actually long since made up his mind to take advantage of Liu Chengzong.

As long as Liu Chengzong did not attack Hancheng, he planned to die in Hancheng in this lifetime and never even meet him.

But the moment he saw the letter, his scalp went numb.

It was not because of how fierce Liu Chengzong's wording was in the letter, but because Zuo Maodi simply could not figure it out.

Yulin was a nest of soldiers; it would not be strange for those officers to make any choice when caught between life and death.

What was strange was Liu Chengzong.

He had overpowered the Three Frontiers, trampled five defense zones, and carried the prestige of a great victory that had taken the Pacify-the-Caitiffs campaign beyond the Great Wall hostage. If he wished, Zuo Maodi believed Liu Chengzong could certainly persuade Yulin City to surrender.

Spend some time, expend some words.

Or at worst, simply besiege Yulin City without attacking, and in the end the city would still fall into his hands.

Yet Liu Chengzong, among all those simple methods, had deliberately chosen the most complicated one.

He sent the young men in Yulin City who might have surrendered to him back to Shanxi, and kept only the old soldiers and dismissed generals for whom surrender held absolutely no future prospects... why bother?

Zuo Maodi did not understand, but Liu Chengzong's reason for summoning him north was compelling enough; he had to go to Yulin.

If there was still room to turn things around, he hoped he could persuade Liu Chengzong to use gentler measures against the Yulin garrison.

If battle was unavoidable, then Zuo Maodi also hoped he could indeed convey to the imperial court the valor and loyalty of the old generals in Yulin City.

After five days of galloping travel, a full year after they had begun exchanging letters, Zuo Maodi finally met Liu Chengzong at the North Garrison Tower of Yulin City.

Like most people who met Liu Chengzong for the first time, although Zuo Maodi had long prepared himself mentally, he could not help but inwardly marvel at Liu Chengzong's youth.

In truth, there were many things for him to marvel at.

For instance, Yulin City at this moment truly made Zuo Maodi grasp what it meant to be a solitary city.

Outside the city, war clouds gathered thickly as tens of thousands of troops were arrayed on all four sides of Yulin, while atop the walls they mounted a strict, death-defying defense.

Yet just eight li north of the city, at the Horse-Trading Fort by the Yuxi River, a mere one li southwest of the North Garrison Tower, a market had opened with tremendous fanfare.

Firecrackers exploded in unison, ten thousand riders converged like spokes to a hub, Han and Mongol merchants gathered in throngs — the commotion was even greater than the Yulin City defenders firing their cannons into the siege trenches.

Moreover, from Zuo Maodi's impression, Liu Chengzong's attention to the Horse-Trading Fort far exceeded his attention to Yulin City. The most direct evidence was that several entire battalions of Liu Chengzong's elite troops, with their immaculate armor and weapons, were maintaining order along the banks of the Yuxi River.

Outside Yulin City, by contrast, one could barely see any of the Marshal's headquarters' own veteran troops.

"Magistrate Zuo, the Grand Marshal invites you up to the tower for a meal."

At the call, Zuo Maodi roused himself from his thoughts. The man relaying the order to him was Liu Jinjue, a centurion of the Tiger Guard Battalion.

Liu Jinjue was an officer from Hancheng, so he still addressed Zuo Maodi by his old habit, calling him the parent-official.

His original rank had been Guard Commander. When Liu Chengzong attacked Guanzhong, Liu Jinjue, along with commanders Sun Shoufa, Li Guozheng, and others of the Han-He Battalion, had responded to Xi'an Prefecture's call for aid. Their four battalions were smashed by Liu Chengzong in three shichen, and they became surrendered officers.

Actually, those Guard Commanders had been quite dissatisfied with their reassignment by the Marshal's headquarters at first. A perfectly good Guard Commander, a substantive field commission that at least matched the rank of a Guard Commander, and under Liu Chengzong they had not even managed to become a squad commander.

They were only made centurions.

But treatment is always a matter of comparison. Men like Liu Jinjue and Sun Shoufa now bore not the slightest grudge against Liu Chengzong.

They even felt that being able to hold the rank of Tiger Guard centurion was thanks to their connections as fellow provincials from Shaanxi.

After all, the surrendered officers and troops from places like Ningxia were all outside Yulin City right now making preparations for the assault. By comparison, the treatment of the few of them was already much better.

At the northwest corner of the North Garrison Tower, Liu Chengzong was tearing flatbread into tiny shreds and soaking them in mutton stew. Seeing Zuo Maodi ascend the tower, he greeted him with a smile: "The mutton is at its freshest — Brother Zuo, come quickly!"

When he came forward, Liu the Lion gazed at the Horse-Trading Fort by the river at the mountain's foot, shook his head with immense self-satisfaction, and sighed with emotion: "Truly a magnificent sight of the frontier!"

Along the banks of the Yuxi River, herders from various tribes who had come from south and north of the Gobi gathered in clusters on the eastern bank, driving flocks of cattle and sheep, camels and horses, bringing hides and wool. Following the old Ming court rules of designated market grounds, issued licenses, and sequential border trade, they each set up camps along the riverbank.

Guanzhong merchants, meanwhile, built kilns on the western bank, bringing large quantities of cloth, silks, salt, tea, and other goods to trade at the Horse-Trading Fort.

Only, unlike the old rules of the Great Ming, for this market opening, there were absolutely no prohibitions on goods.

To facilitate this market, Liu Chengzong had, as early as on his return journey, mobilized goods from Ju'er Bay in Kangning Prefecture, and had even transferred over some market officials.

Iron pots and ironware for civilian use, gold-papered farming tools, bronze buddhas and gold implements — everything one could want was available.

And for the nobles and chieftains recognized by the two protectorates of Southern and Northern Gobi, waist knives, arrowheads, single-eyed arquebuses, three-eyed arquebuses, gunpowder, cannonballs, and even fine dried noodles, armor, and Gushing Pearl Cannons could all circulate in the market.

The immense scale of the market was unprecedented along the Nine Frontiers.

Its liveliness was naturally out of the ordinary as well.

Only, to Zuo Maodi, Liu Chengzong's actions seemed utterly insane.

Unafraid of offending Liu the Lion, he simply cupped his fists and said: "Grand Marshal, forgive my offense, but I see no magnificent sight. I see only the Grand Marshal inviting the wolf into his house."

"Ha ha ha!"

Hearing these words, Liu the Lion showed a trace of astonishment, then laughed a few times with a sense of relief. Only then did he sit back down and silently tear his bread.

He thought to himself, when has there ever been a great chaos where the Han people did not first beat each other's brains out across the Central Plains before others followed and barged in together?

A moment later, he raised his head, his eyes still carrying a carefree smile, and asked: "Does Brother Zuo truly believe that the Central Plains originally had no wolves, tigers, and leopards, that such creatures are a specialty of the lands beyond the frontier, requiring special import?"

Zuo Maodi had originally felt an instinctive revulsion toward this army under Liu Chengzong's command, reeking of mutton and grease, but upon hearing these words, he suddenly froze.

Only then did he abruptly realize that discussing this topic with Liu Chengzong was entirely superfluous.

The young man before him, with laughter in his eyes, had in eight or nine years subdued half the world's wolves, tigers, and leopards, and could be called the world's foremost beast tamer.

Or rather, Liu Chengzong himself was the most terrifying thing among those wolves, tigers, and leopards.

The fearsome borderland caitiffs that so alarmed him were, in Liu Chengzong's eyes, probably nothing more than harmless, docile kittens.

At this moment, Liu Chengzong spoke with great seriousness: "It is the Great Ming that invited the wolf into the house, not me. Only government troops, when weak, can borrow troops from borderland nobles to aid in suppression by relying on the prestige of the orthodox court. Rebels do not have that ability."

He raised his hand and pointed southwest toward the Horse-Trading Fort, his finger moving in turn across the encampment positions of each tribe: "I can only subdue each tribe one by one, conscripting their men and troops. The phrase 'inviting the wolf into the house' sounds truly ridiculous. I am the brigand who breaks down every door, house by house."

Zuo Maodi was momentarily tongue-tied, yet inwardly he found the description entirely apt.

Wasn't it just so? Looking back over Liu Chengzong's record, it was a process of beating whoever he caught and robbing whoever he saw — entering the maritime region, he drove Huoluochi into Ü-Tsang; invited into Nangqên, he seized all of Kangning; knocking on the Jiayu Pass, he annexed Zhangye and Gansu; allying with the Chahar, he became the Great Khan of the Chahar; thrashing the Oirat, he became suzerain of the Oirat.

The man was like a tiger cub — a casual splash and a patch of piss spreads everywhere.

At this thought, Zuo Maodi couldn't help laughing aloud: inviting the wolf into the house... a wolf is nowhere near as efficient as Chengzong.

He couldn't resist cupping his fists and saying, "Since the Grand Marshal has such ambition, why not summon the many old commanders in Yulin to surrender? The Marshal Army's prestige is already at its peak — why insist on this battle?"

"Summon them to surrender?"

Liu Chengzong gave Zuo Maodi an odd look. "Brother Zuo, think about it — is that even possible? What sort of men are those? Asking them to surrender — you might as well tell me straight out you want me to pen them in the city and starve them to death."

Create a few Zhang Xuns?

With that, he lifted the bowl of mutton stew and slurped it down in great mouthfuls, leaving Zuo Maodi sitting awkwardly opposite, lost in thought.

Liu Chengzong did not eat ferociously — he was deft and tidy — but his table manners were not exactly good, because his eyes never looked into the bowl but were fixed on the distant outline of Horse-Trading City.

In a flash he had downed half the bowl. Only then did he set it down and catch his breath, saying, "Killing men on the battlefield — thousands, tens of thousands — is as easy as turning over your palm; there are plenty of methods. But a hero is different. The most fearsome opponent in the world is a hero."

Without waiting for Zuo Maodi to reply, Liu Chengzong went on, "Because when a hero dies, his heroic spirit rises from the corpse and endures forever."

"The baser the method of killing, the more tragic the death, the mightier the heroic spirit. Brother Zuo has only ever killed rough, reckless types — it's only natural you wouldn't know. Many heroes have died by my hand, countless whose names were never heard. I have seen that kind of heroic spirit."

"One man holding off ten, amid a forest of blades and a rain of bullets — even the cannons aimed at me did not make me afraid, but I fear that kind of heroic spirit... Hu Erchun and Li Qimao, who hanged themselves in Longzhou; Yang Jiamo, who threw himself into fire and water at Gaotai; Duan Fuxing, who fought to exhaustion and died in Qianzhou; Cao Wenzhao, who on the battlefield forever tried to charge within three paces of me."

"Their heroic spirit would make me waver — had I taken the wrong path? Was there a better road under Heaven, one that could let more people live?"

Liu Chengzong's tone had been quite heavy, but suddenly it shifted: "After killing enough, I thought it through. The more my subordinates support me, the more my enemies hate me. You can't expect enemies in desperate straits to surrender to you. You must anticipate the worst from the enemy — if he wants to be a hero, then grant him his wish."

"Even if they're just putting on a show, I'll make sure to fulfill every condition for them."

"Kill him — orthodox against orthodox, unorthodox against unorthodox — seize that heroic spirit, build a temple, put it inside, and grant it an official post, so that the spirit doesn't go running all over the realm."

"Then build a temple for my own men, right next to it, so people will know: he was a hero, I am a gentleman, and my subordinates are heroes too. His path was wrong!"

"But..."

Zuo Maodi raised a hand as if to speak, then stopped himself. He felt that for a madman like Liu Chengzong, who turned heroic spirit into something tangible, all words were pale and powerless.

This Liu Chengzong was like a mirror that Heaven had tossed into the world.

Whoever you are, it reflects you.

Whatever kind of person you want to become, it makes you become that person.

Zuo Maodi had wanted to be a good official in Hancheng, and this rebel leader had genuinely exempted him from taxes and even recommended him for outstanding merit.

Wasn't it the same with Chen Qiyu, the Five-Province Supreme Commander? The moment he put on a show of defending to the death, a single move of the Three-Clan Delivery Technique sent his entire clan, young and old, stuffed right into the city.

If you want to be a hero, then be the most magnificent hero of all!

Liu Chengzong, the whole man, was like a merciless hero-manufacturing machine.

Zuo Maodi started to speak, then hesitated. Only after a long while did he say, "But Grand Marshal, since Yulin is determined to fight to the death, a bitter battle brings no benefit to the Marshal Army either..."

Who would have thought — before he could even finish, Liu Chengzong gave a sly smile.

Liu the Lion thought to himself: No benefit?

If there were no benefit, why would I have called you here!

"Brother Zuo, you may not know, but I annihilated an Eastern Caitiff army beyond the frontier, and the commanders I left guarding Qin have been clamoring eagerly for battle — I can't even hold them back."

Liu Chengzong spread both hands, putting on a look of feigned reluctance at having gained an advantage: "That city is full of Regional Commanders and Colonels — in the court's eyes, they're just crippled, discarded officers. Since they're set on seeking death..."

"I'll give them a heroic death in service to the nation, and they'll give my vigorous young soldiers a few Regional Commander merits. Brother Zuo has the virtue of spreading the famed names of commanders in song. Yulin will become a city that never surrenders, and their descendants will also receive important posts at court."

Liu Chengzong listed a long string of benefits, and the more Zuo Maodi listened, the colder his heart grew.

In all honesty, he felt Liu Chengzong had a point, but he still found it strange.

"But on the battlefield, guns and cannons are blind. The vigorous soldiers under the Grand Marshal's command will inevitably suffer casualties too. Why — why go this far?"

Vigorous soldiers under his command?

Liu Chengzong thought to himself: Why would I send my own vigorous soldiers into a battle like this?

Haven't you noticed my veterans are all along the river keeping order and managing the trade markets?

To put it bluntly, all those benefits Liu the Lion had listed to Zuo Maodi were just made-up excuses.

The real reason he wanted to fight this battle was just one.

To reorganize the surrendered troops.

This was something that should have been done back during the eastern campaign against Daiching.

But at that time, he couldn't do it.

Facing Daiching's Eight Banners, whom he had never encountered before, he feared the surrendered troops would ruin things on the battlefield.

After all, with newly surrendered units, if their proportion on the battlefield was slightly too large, no accident would be surprising.

Bringing them along would not only fail to increase combat effectiveness — it might even result in worse combat performance with more troops.

That was why he had left them all in Shaanxi, having them surround Yulin City.

Not demanding they breach the city — just giving them something to do so they wouldn't sit idle and cause trouble.

Now, that concern was gone.

Liu the Lion had deliberately let the young men in the city go, keeping these old commanders behind precisely to collect their heads.

To be precise, it was to let the surrendered troops who had never experienced a major battle against the Ming army — those from Ningxia, Yansui, and Zhou Qinghui Dengxiang — collect these old commanders' heads.

These Regional Commanders from generations of hereditary military families — in Liu the Lion's view, dying in battle was not the least bit unjust. Besides, they themselves were happy to die in battle; they just lacked a magnificent, good death.

And those surrendered commanders under his command who had yet to earn merit would, in a short time, find it hard to develop a sense of belonging to the Marshal's Manor.

The mutual trust between both sides lacked only this battle before them.

The intensity was not too high, and the merit not too small.

Most importantly, once this battle was fought, even if a Regional Commander inside the city tripped and died, Liu Chengzong would have it recorded that he died fighting with all his strength.

This was the surrendered commanders' pledge of allegiance.

"Brother Zuo, look — that is my fierce commander Liu Fangming, once a deputy general in Ningxia; beside him is Ma Xiantu, a master of bow and horse."

"That one is the Liao commander Wang Yuncheng, formerly with Deng Qi; the other battalion is Xu Yong, another fierce commander from the court's side."

"In my view, they'll all earn merit in this battle!"

?? Good evening!

? (End of chapter)