Chapter 838

On the twenty-third day of the seventh month of the Zhengtong tenth year, the Emperor decided to lead the army in person against the Oirats.

As soon as the news broke, regardless of how worried civil and military officials were, the common people erupted in joy.

"I've long despised these barbarians—they send raiders to Datong every year. His Majesty, benevolent as he is, has always shown leniency, pitying their poverty, yet they remain unsatisfied and now dare to launch a large southern invasion. Finally, the imperial court is showing some backbone."

"It's not the court—it's said the civil and military officials refused to send troops. It was the Emperor who argued fiercely and insisted on leading the campaign himself before they agreed."

"A tiger father has no dog son—this matter rests entirely with His Majesty."

The people of Jingcheng were better informed; as soon as the news of the Emperor's personal campaign broke, while those outside the capital remained ignorant, they were already passionately discussing it.

Pan Yu had just entered the city when he heard the chatter—he immediately bowed to his colleagues and sprinted home.

His colleagues, like him, rushed home at once.

The Emperor would draw troops from the Five Armies to accompany him on his personal campaign.

This spring, Pan Yu took the military examination and ranked fifth, becoming a glorious military Metropolitan Graduate.

He didn't need his father to spend money—he got into the Left Wing of the Five Armies himself. They had just completed fifteen days of concentrated training, and today was their day off, so everyone was heading home.

Pan Yu burst into the house, shouting as he entered: "Father, I'm going with the Emperor on his personal campaign!"

Pan Hong, who had been speaking with Pan Yue, looked up at him without expression.

Pan Yu sensed something was wrong, halted, blinked, and asked softly: "What's wrong?"

Pan Hong snapped: "Do you think I'm Wang Zhen? You think you can join just because you want to, and refuse just because you don't?"

Pan Yu rubbed his nose and leaned close to Pan Hong: "Father, everyone outside says the civil and military officials don't want to fight the Oirats? Yeshi has already reached our doorstep, yet they're still cowering—what are they trying to do?"

Pan Yue slapped a book sharply against his head and said sternly: "Don't believe every rumor you hear. Listen to the gossip, but take no more than one-tenth of it as truth."

Pan Yu clutched his head.

Pan Hong sighed: "Who said the civil and military officials didn't want to send troops? The Oirat army is advancing south—we must fight. None of us are cowards. What we oppose is the Emperor leading the campaign in person."

"Why oppose it?" Pan Yu, who supported it, said loudly: "The Emperor leading the campaign boosts morale—the people are thrilled. When I came home, everyone outside was praising His Majesty."

Pan Hong shook his head and sighed: "It's too dangerous. A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall. The Emperor has no heir—how can he risk his life?"

"He doesn't need to charge into battle—the front lines are ours. He only needs to hold the rear, inspire the troops, and that alone will be worth a hundred thousand soldiers."

Pan Yue sneered: "Are you underestimating the Emperor or overestimating the generals? The Emperor is young and fiery—do you think he'll sit quietly in the rear? Besides, Wang Zhen is accompanying him."

He poked his brother's forehead in frustration: "You study military strategy—think seriously about battlefield realities before you speak. No wonder you ranked fifth despite acing the military exam—I wasted so much time tutoring you."

Pan Yu opened his mouth, imagined the Emperor and Wang Zhen on the battlefield, and his eyes widened: "You—you're afraid the Emperor will seize command and botch the army's strategy?"

Pan Yue lifted his eyelids to look at him: "Lower your voice. If the Embroidered Uniform guards' spies hear you, you won't just miss the campaign—you might not even live."

Pan Yu clamped his mouth shut.

But it was unbearable.

He scratched his face, then couldn't hold back, whispering: "Has no one warned the Emperor? He's only eighteen—he's never been on a battlefield, probably never studied military strategy. How can he override the generals and supervisors to command the troops? This is a major war—he should appoint commanders like General Wang Ji or General Chen Huai."

Pan Hong took a deep breath: "The court has already finalized the list. Duke of Ying, Zhang Fu, will accompany the army. Also, Commander Jing Yuan of the Imperial Guard, the newly appointed Minister of War Kuang Ye, Minister of Revenue Wang Zuo, Marquis Tai Ning Chen Ying, Earl Pingxiang Chen Huai, and Grand Secretary Cao Nai."

Pan Yu perked up: "Then why worry? The Duke of Ying is the greatest general in the land—he's with the army, along with Commander Jing and others. What's there to fear from Yeshi?"

Pan Hong remained silent.

Pan Yue said: "On the condition that the Emperor listens to the Duke of Ying."

Pan Yu opened his mouth, then said nothing.

He was just a minor figure—his father wasn't even certain, so he dared not claim anything for sure.

And this young Emperor had always been stubborn and willful.

Pan Yue: "It's a pity the court ministers dare not voice their concerns, only hiding behind excuses about battlefield danger."

Pan Hong glared at him: "The battlefield is indeed dangerous. Even if His Majesty had the strength to lead personally, he shouldn't. The Oirats are nothing to fear."

Many court ministers still opposed the Emperor's personal campaign, but the Emperor had already decided. In just one day, the accompanying personnel list was finalized, and every ministry began preparing for the campaign.

Pan Yu was about to dig for more details when the front gate was slammed hard. A soldier on horseback shouted to Pan Yu: "Order of the Five Armies Command: All soldiers on leave must return to camp immediately."

Pan Yu solemnly replied—he still wore his uniform and could leave at once.

Pan Yue grabbed him: "It seems His Majesty's departure is rushed. Even soldiers just on leave are recalled—I'll get you some medicine and socks. After this, you probably won't be able to come back for anything."

For soldiers, what mattered wasn't clothing—it was socks, especially socks.

Pan Yue quickly packed his bag. Pan Hong slipped some money into his son's hand: "You may not need it, but having money is better than having none."

Pan Yue handed him three vials: "These are the hemostatic powder and internal medicine your younger sister brought. You know them. This one is new—just arrived these past two days. She brewed it to strengthen the body. She meant to send it to your barracks, but I figured you'd return today, so I held off. Take it—use it when you train. It may help you."

Pan Yu nodded, stuffed everything into his pack, slung his great sword over his shoulder, and mounted his horse.

Pan Hong and Pan Yue stood at the door, watching him ride away, sighing softly: "Though we must be loyal to the sovereign and serve the state, at this moment, I hope he isn't chosen to join the campaign."

But the next day, Pan Hong received word: the Emperor had summoned the Three Great Camps—the Five Armies, the Three Thousand Camp, and the Divine Engine Camp—drawing twenty thousand elite troops, along with over a hundred civil and military officials…

By afternoon, the news that the Emperor was leading fifty thousand troops in person spread through every alley and street, and the message raced toward Datong.

Exaggerating troop numbers was common—declaring fifty thousand when sending twenty thousand was reasonable.

Pan Hong didn't know if it would scare Yeshi, but it scared him.

He twitched his lips, face filled with dread: "The Emperor set the timeline too hastily. Such urgency—there's no time to prepare grain supplies. Is the army to march first, with supplies following?"

Even he, a civilian censor who knew nothing of warfare, knew this would lead to disaster—why hadn't anyone warned the Emperor?

Pan Hong didn't know that at this moment, the Duke of Ying was being helped out of the palace, his face pale with exhaustion even the night could not hide.

Yu Qian muttered angrily: "That old eunuch—desperate to please the Emperor, he'll do anything. He blindly agrees to such a monumental decision, with no strategy at all—Grand Master…"

The Duke of Ying raised a weary hand to stop him, whispering: "I'll do my best to coordinate the troops. Please, Minister Chen and Vice Minister Wang, hurry to procure grain. Starting tomorrow, once a hundred units are ready, send them ahead immediately—every bit earlier helps."

Chen Xun nodded: "I ordered grain collection from all regions yesterday and notified them of the Emperor's personal campaign. They should be preparing. If grain from Jingcheng arrives late, the army may temporarily requisition from local areas."

The Duke of Ying remained silent, face grim—he refused to open that door. Once opened, twenty thousand troops would be impossible to control; if soldiers plundered civilians, it would be a catastrophe for the local people.

Unless absolutely desperate, he would never allow troops to resupply on the spot.

"Have all prefectures and counties prepare," the Duke of Ying said. "I will enforce strict discipline and forbid soldiers from harassing civilians. But you know—as soon as men are driven to starvation, they'll do anything."

Chen Xun nodded with concern.

Yu Qian grew so furious he fell utterly silent: "The army hasn't even moved, yet our worry isn't battle—it's grain supplies along the march. How can we win like this?"

The Duke of Ying rubbed his forehead and asked in return: "Can you persuade His Majesty to cancel his personal campaign?"

Yu Qian fell silent—he lacked such power.

"Only two people in the world have this power: one is the late Empress Dowager; the other is Wang Zhen, who serves beside His Majesty."

Never mind then—Wang Zhen would never help them persuade the Emperor.

Seeing they had all resigned themselves, the Duke of Ying nodded: "Each of you return to prepare. Don't lose heart—what great storms haven't we weathered? We still have two hundred thousand troops, and morale remains high. Defeating the Wala won't be a problem."

Inspired by the Duke of Ying's confidence, the others' spirits steadied, their dread easing.

It was true—even if the Emperor ignored them, they had two hundred thousand troops, and countless veteran and valiant generals. Victory wasn't impossible.

Everyone dispersed to prepare.

The Left Commander of the Five Armies swept his hand through the roster, and Pan Yu was swept into the imperial campaign force.

It was simply too easy.

Among the Three Elite Camps, the Three Thousand Cavalry were mounted, and one-third were ethnic minorities; the Divine Engine Camp was the elite among elites, and their numbers were few.

Only the combined infantry-cavalry Five Armies had the greatest numbers—most of the two hundred thousand troops were drawn from them; it was no surprise Pan Yu was pulled in.

Pan Yu returned to camp, delighted, to pack his belongings.

His comrades were thrilled—they finally saw their chance for glory.

"I thought I'd spend the rest of my life drilling troops in the Five Armies. Who knew our luck would be so good? Right after the Wu Ju, we're joining His Majesty's campaign. If I earn merit on the battlefield, I'll truly honor my ancestors."

Just thinking of it made him feel wonderful.

Pan Yu felt the same: "I never expected I'd become an official before my elder brother—and maybe even earn merit before him. If I kill a Wala commander on the battlefield, I might earn a commendation."

"Others might not stand a chance, but Pan Yu—you truly might. Your great sword is superb. When you channel your inner strength, it carries the weight of ten thousand catties. Last time we sparred, the moment our blades touched, my Hukou ached."

"Yes, yes! Pan Yu, your family are civil officials—where did you learn your Wu Gong?"

Pan Yu said proudly: "I learned from my younger sister."

After Pan Yu finished boasting, his essential gear was packed. His comrades dispersed. He took out three vials, examined them, then stuffed the blood-stanching powder and internal medicine into his pack, hiding the third vial carefully in the cabinet.

His younger sister said that when cultivating Wu Gong, especially when refining inner strength, the mind must be still. His mind isn't still now—taking this medicine won't help. Better to save it for when he returns, and take it at the right time.

Pan Yu was delighted. His elder brother always said he never learned from his mistakes, never remembered his losses, never changed. This time, he'd prove he could overcome his weakness—his low self-control, his eagerness to be tempted.

Pan Yue knew nothing of Pan Yu's thoughts. Pan Yun had sent them three vials of medicine, seemingly fearing they'd hesitate to use them; in her letter, she stressed the herbs were cheap, and she had more.

Since it was a tonic for strengthening the body, Pan Yue and Pan Hong had taken it too, especially now, when the court and the Imperial Academy were busiest.

With preparations for the Emperor's personal campaign underway, every official in Jingcheng worked nonstop. The officials of the Honglu Temple weren't spared.

Students of the Imperial Academy were also conscripted, dragged away by officials to serve as assistants.

After two days of this, father and son both collapsed.

Pale-faced, drenched in cold sweat, as if they might faint at any moment—even the overworked superiors, whose mouths were blistered from shouting, voluntarily granted them leave and ordered them home to rest.

Pan Hong was nearly carried back to the Pan household.

The Director of the Honglu Temple sighed: "I'd planned to assign him to accompany the army—after capturing Wala prisoners, he could handle their arrangements. Alas. By the way, where's Yang Shan? Have him join the campaign."

"But what about Wang Zhangyin…?"

"He's already half-dead. Drag him to the army, and he'll die before we even leave Jingcheng. That's bad luck. If His Majesty finds out, he'll be furious—and Wang Zhangyin won't let His Majesty be furious."

Besides, isn't Pan Yun someone not to be trifled with?

Others may not know Pan Yun, but he did.

Yang Shan, returning from Japan, had specifically mentioned it: though young, that girl had a formidable spirit.

"I heard Pan Yun's second brother is in the Five Armies, and has been selected for the campaign?"

"Yes. The Ministry of Rites has also drawn several top students from the Imperial Academy to accompany His Majesty—to read to him and answer his questions."

"Who needs Imperial Academy students to answer questions? The Hanlin Academy handles that. Isn't Pan Yun's elder brother in the Imperial Academy?"

"Yes. I heard he's on the list for conscription."

The Director of the Honglu Temple murmured: "This is extermination."

He didn't know that at that very moment, the President of the Imperial Academy was erasing Pan Yue's name from the list and replacing it with another student's.

"He's unconscious. Look at his face—do you dare carry him to the army? What if it's contagious? His Majesty is with the troops!"

So Pan Yue was also carried back to the Pan household by his classmates.

Yin Song heard the news and rushed to the Pan household. After feeling their pulses, he sighed: "Better send for a Physician from Huichun Hall."

The Pan household had only two servants—a pair of elderly husband and wife, hired after Pan Hong's rehabilitation to serve them. Hearing this, they collapsed to their knees, weeping in terror: "My lord, please save our master and eldest son! The second son and Young Lady are away. If anything happens to them, how can we face our family?"

Yin Song thought: You don't need to answer for them—it's Pan Yun who'll answer.

Yin Song calmed the old servants, gave both men acupuncture, then went to fetch the Physician from Huichun Hall.