Chapter 133: Be Wary

Seeing Zuo Jiqian here surprised Zheng Fan.

And yet somehow it did not surprise him at all.

After the assassination at former Commander-in-Chief Xiao Dahai’s funeral that day the Marquis of Jingnan had sat on the threshold before the mourning hall.

Zheng Fan and Zuo Jiqian had knelt below him.

Because of Zuo Jiqian’s family background, the Marquis of Jingnan had even chatted casually with him about his household.

It would be impossible to say Zheng Fan had felt no envy at all back then.

Whether in ancient times or modern a good family background made almost anything easier.

But thinking back now that day, the Marquis of Jingnan had even mentioned the old patriarch of the Zuo Clan when speaking with Zuo Jiqian.

Although their conversation had clearly reflected hierarchy there had still been a sense of harmony and mutual respect between great houses.

Fuck.

What exactly had the Marquis of Jingnan been feeling at that time?

Zheng Fan suspected he had probably been looking at a tiny quail that was about to be cooked.

Now the Zuo Quail sat behind a fence.

Though honestly it could not really be called imprisonment.

The convicts here were treated reasonably well physically.

Nobody tortured or deliberately mistreated them.

What truly replaced ordinary punishment was the enormous psychological collapse of going from superior noble to prisoner overnight.

That difference alone could drive a man insane.

Zheng Fan looked at the Lieutenant Commander beside him.

“What punishment did the Zuo Clan receive?”

“The entire clan was reduced to servitude.”

Zheng Fan nodded.

If the sentence had been extermination—

Zuo Jiqian could not possibly be standing here.

Those convicts sent south all had relatives registered as slaves or criminals under state control.

His Majesty the Emperor was merciful.

He had given them a chance to fight for freedom again on behalf of their families.

But if your clan had been marked for extermination and you were a clan member serving as an official outside the estate then naturally you did not get to survive either.

After all—

Great Yan possessed only one Marquis of Jingnan.

And His Majesty trusted only that one Marquis of Jingnan.

This was an enormous purge.

Seeing Zuo Jiqian behind the fence made Zheng Fan think of the Soviet Union’s purges of its own officer corps before the German-Soviet War in the history he knew.

Later generations often regarded those purges as one reason the Soviet forces collapsed so badly at the beginning of the war.

Great Yan, however did not have to worry too much about that particular problem.

Zuo Jiqian, former Garrison Commander of Jitui Fort, might now be standing here waiting to be “sold.”

But the Marquis of Zhenbei’s estate had suppressed the barbarians for a century.

Zheng Fan had once worked in Beifeng Commandery.

He knew perfectly well what kind of relationship existed between the Zhenbei Army and the Marquis’s estate.

Water could not seep through it.

A needle could not pierce it.

As for the Jingnan Army the Yan Emperor had handed it to Tian Wujing not long after taking the throne more than ten years ago.

Every general promoted within the Jingnan Army since then had been chosen solely at the Marquis of Jingnan’s word.

Great Yan’s two strongest field armies would therefore be largely unaffected by this purge of the aristocratic clans.

Even if some effects existed they could almost be ignored.

Looking at matters this way at the very least, these three men had already been wearing the same pair of trousers for more than ten years.

Perhaps even longer.

“Lord Zheng!

“Lord Zheng!”

Seeing Zheng Fan begin to drift into thought, Zuo Jiqian immediately grew anxious.

Zheng Fan returned to himself.

He looked at Zuo Jiqian.

Then sighed helplessly.

The Huo Clan had been secretly held back by Fatty Xu as a special favor for Zheng Fan.

Although more than seven hundred clan members staying together made them harder to divide and control there were advantages as well as disadvantages.

Plenty of military officers would probably have been interested in them.

War was coming.

Whoever possessed better-quality soldiers whoever could field combat-ready men sooner could begin earning military merit earlier.

Those seven hundred Huo clansmen were practically a trained small army.

They needed to kill enemies to win freedom back for their families.

Zheng Fan needed them to earn military merit.

Not every officer possessed such an overwhelming desire for control that he would reject a cohesive unit on principle.

But Zuo Jiqian—

Zheng Fan glanced again at the two or three hundred men sitting behind him.

He was almost certain Fatty Xu had not saved them as a second special favor.

They simply had not sold.

First although Zuo Jiqian belonged to the Zuo Clan and that clan’s roots were not in Yinlang Commandery, Zuo Jiqian had been Garrison Commander of Jitui Fort.

The men sentenced with him were household troops who had originally followed him from the Zuo Clan into his posting at Jitui Fort.

If the Huo Clan was a crowd of strong fools wandering in darkness then Zuo Jiqian’s group were strong fools with open eyes and independent thoughts.

Even after Zuo Jiqian lost every official title what military commander would dare absorb him?

Once he entered the unit who exactly would be in charge?

You?

Or him?

So it was not difficult to understand why Zuo Jiqian had become so excited the moment he saw Zheng Fan.

As an unsold product he was desperate.

He genuinely wanted someone to buy him.

If nobody did then he and more than two hundred Zuo clansmen would truly be sent away as laborers.

And how did laborers earn military merit?

How could they win freedom for the women, children, and elderly in their clan?

By piling up ten years of labor?

Twenty?

Zuo Jiqian himself understood perfectly well why nobody wanted him.

Over these days, he had gone from initial reserve to making oaths before Heaven to nearly kowtowing and acknowledging masters.

Yet none of the military commanders who had once held higher or lower rank than him dared take them.

Zheng Fan—

Zheng Fan could.

Zuo Jiqian knew Zheng Fan’s background.

Naturally, the background he knew was wrong.

But at this point it did not matter.

North or south switch the words around and it looked almost the same anyway.

Nobody could blame Zuo Jiqian for lowering himself this much.

If Zheng Fan refused to take them they would genuinely become laborers.

Zheng Fan pointed at Zuo Jiqian.

The Lieutenant Commander beside him was one of Xu Wenzu’s trusted men.

Naturally, he knew how close his own superior was with this Garrison Commander Zheng.

So he quietly reminded him, “My Lord.

“You want them?”

There was an implication in his tone.

Basically:

We are on the same side.

I won’t trick you.

Think again.

A’Ming and Siniang—disguised as a man—stood behind Zheng Fan.

Neither would offer an opinion.

After all even if Master brought Lü Bu back to Willow Fort, they were not the ones who would have to worry.

They did not train troops.

In fact, they might even enjoy watching the Blind Man and Liang Cheng suffer headaches over it.

Ignoring the lazy Demon Child who specialized in relying on his father the remaining six Demon Kings had relationships that carried at least a little flavor of concubines competing for favor.

Truthfully—

Zheng Fan was thinking the same thing.

He was not the one training soldiers anyway.

And he possessed absolute confidence in the Blind Man and Liang Cheng.

That was the advantage of being the leader.

You only needed to know what the next step should be.

You did not need to know how to execute it.

“I want them.”

“Many thanks, Brother Zheng!

“Many thanks, Lord Zheng!”

At that moment, the Zuo clansmen behind Zuo Jiqian seemed unable to believe they had genuinely been purchased.

They surged forward excitedly and saluted Zheng Fan through the fence.

Truthfully—

Zheng Fan felt somewhat uncomfortable calmly accepting those salutes.

Only a month earlier these men had still been his colleagues, together guarding Yan’s frontier forts.

Now they had fallen into this condition.

Of course, he found it difficult to truly pity them either.

Human emotions were finite.

And on the road from the capital back to Nanwang City his sympathy had already been used up.

All one could say was beneath the waves of every great era, countless pitiable people were always buried.

“Fine.

“Since My Lord wants them, this subordinate will have the paperwork approved immediately.”

“Thank you for the trouble,” Zheng Fan said.

At that moment, Siniang—still disguised as a man—stepped forward.

She accompanied the Lieutenant Commander to summon a clerk and process the documents.

At the same time, Siniang slipped the officer a money pouch.

There was gold inside.

The Lieutenant Commander looked surprised.

But he accepted it, flattered.

These were small details.

And life experience.

Inside the imperial palace, Zheng Fan might hesitate over whether he should try stuffing money into Duke Wei’s hands.

Siniang knew exactly whom to pay and how much.

She had, after all, run more clubs and entertainment houses than anyone could count.

Zheng Fan now returned to the enclosure holding the Huo Clan.

Sometimes you truly had to admire how far ahead the Blind Man thought.

Even if describing a blind man as “far-sighted” sounded somewhat strange.

When the Sixth Prince’s people had first arrived to help construct Willow Fort, the Blind Man had personally participated throughout the project and altered the original plan.

As a result—

Willow Fort’s overall layout was somewhat unusual.

The fortress itself was ordinary enough.

But outside it, an entire flat area had deliberately been cleared and barracks constructed.

This meant Willow Fort could accommodate far more people.

If the fortress itself filled people could still live outside.

After all—

Zheng Fan and the others had never imagined they would one day sit inside Willow Fort with an enemy army at the gates, fighting to the death and renaming the place “Zheng’s Retreat Fort.”

Even after building those barracks even after increasing their population capacity the Blind Man had not rushed to mass-produce peasant soldiers.

Because he had long since guessed that elite troops with levels already attached to them would eventually be delivered to their door for free.

So if they absorbed the two or three hundred men under Zuo Jiqian then the seven hundred Huo clansmen could also be swallowed.

As for digestion—

Zheng Fan did not care.

Oh.

Right.

Earlier, some Huo idiot had apparently stood there acting extremely arrogant and provoking him.

When Zheng Fan returned he discovered the idiot had already been pinned to the ground by an elderly man with half-white hair.

The young man’s face was swollen.

Blood stained the corner of his mouth.

He had probably been slapped twice.

The elderly man saw Zheng Fan approach.

One hand continued holding the young man down.

The other rested against his own chest.

With great sincerity, he said, “My Lord.

“Please accept us.”

The old man clearly possessed enormous prestige.

More than seven hundred Huo clansmen behind him immediately copied his gesture and saluted Zheng Fan.

The idiot young man pinned beneath him still looked unconvinced.

He twisted his neck and glared fiercely at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan believed that if Liang Cheng had been standing here instead—

Liang Cheng would have calmly walked over with a saber and cut the fool down in front of every Huo clansman.

If the Blind Man had been here he would probably smile pleasantly and say, “You people kill him yourselves.

“Otherwise—

I’ll randomly choose twenty of you to kill instead.”

Then he would add:

“Oh.

“If he commits suicide—

I’ll randomly kill thirty.”

But Zheng Fan did not possess that kind of wicked hobby.

Whether these were Zuo Clan people or Huo Clan people they would ultimately be handed to the Blind Man and Liang Cheng for reform.

Why dirty his own hands?

“What is your name?” Zheng Fan asked.

“Reporting to My Lord.

“This guilty commoner is Huo Guang.”

“…”

Zheng Fan.

“Huo Guang?”

“Huo Guang.

“The ‘Guang’ meaning broad and expansive, My Lord.

“But if My Lord prefers— this guilty commoner can thank My Lord for bestowing a new name and use the ‘Guang’ of light from now on.”

“No, no.

“Your parents gave you your name.

“Why would I change it?

“Fine.

“Prepare yourselves.

“In a little while, you’re coming with me.”

“Many thanks, My Lord, for taking us in.”

Huo Guang released a long breath.

His clan had never truly lacked buyers.

Many military officers had come intending to take them.

But every time the clerks told those officers the Huo Clan was unavailable.

From overhearing their conversations, Huo Guang had learned this was actually the Commander-in-Chief’s order.

Clearly, the Commander-in-Chief of Nanwang City had deliberately kept them for one of his trusted men.

For the Huo Clan that was a good thing.

Following someone favored by the Commander-in-Chief meant earning military merit would probably be easier.

And their chances of being pushed forward as pure cannon fodder would be lower.

Huo Guang lowered his head.

He looked at the younger clan member pinned beneath his hand.

The brat belonged to the main bloodline.

But his brain clearly could not keep up with reality.

The Huo Clan was already gone.

What arrogance of the principal lineage was there still to display?

……

The troop quota had been exceeded.

It did not conform to regulations.

But before connections regulations were nothing more than a courtesan behind red curtains saying, “I sell my art, not my body.”

Zheng Fan declined Nanwang City’s offer to send a hundred cavalrymen to escort him back to Willow Fort.

Willow Fort had not been notified in advance either.

So no barbarian cavalry had been sent to meet him.

And thus—

Garrison Commander Zheng set out toward Willow Fort with only two companions—

A’Ming and Siniang escorting nearly one thousand convicts.

And not one of those convicts wore chains.

Zheng Fan sat leisurely on horseback.

He appeared not remotely worried that someone might suddenly shout, “Great Chu shall rise!

“King Chen Sheng!”

A’Ming and Siniang rode behind him.

The procession moved in excellent order.

The Zuo Clan marched in front.

The Huo Clan behind.

They even arranged themselves into formation automatically.

They were not marching in perfect step but at the very least, the sight looked disciplined.

Their families remained under Imperial Court control.

Only military merit could win those families freedom.

So the likelihood of escape was not high.

They still had ties.

And they still had hope.

Even if they wanted to flee where would they go?

Run inland through Yan?

Was that not simply courting death?

Forget whether they could even make it past the Jingnan Army sealing Yinlang Commandery.

Farther inland stood an old man from Beifeng Commandery carrying a hoe and digging up every root their clans possessed.

Run south?

Under ordinary circumstances perhaps.

But these convicts were not stupid.

They had been born into aristocratic houses.

They were not ignorant commoners.

Naturally they understood perfectly well why His Majesty had exiled them here.

Even if they abandoned their families and fled to Qian for personal freedom what happened if Yan’s great armies invaded not long afterward?

Would they not have fled for nothing?

Truthfully they also understood something else in their hearts.

They still possessed at least a trace of pride in being Yan people.

Or perhaps confidence was the better word.

It would be ridiculous to say that after their families had been destroyed they still felt deep loyalty toward the Emperor or this state.

But there was one thing they believed.

The Zhenbei Army had already been withdrawn from Beifeng Commandery.

It was destined to march south against Qian.

Could Qian really withstand that?

Naturally, nothing was absolute.

And especially when it came to Zuo Jiqian’s appearance perhaps Zheng Fan had simply been too strongly influenced by the old *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* television drama but he always felt the man possessed a slight potential for… that sort of thing.

Still—

Zheng Fan was not worried.

If even he could sense something then naturally the Blind Man would sense far more.

Even so, Zheng Fan did not particularly like this atmosphere.

He had awakened on Yan soil.

The story had begun here.

After seeing its customs, terrain, and people for so long he had inevitably developed some attachment.

And although the other three states mocked Yan people as “Yan barbarians,” the State of Yan was genuinely different from the Liao, Jin, Yuan, or Qing of the history Zheng Fan knew.

One could say its culture was somewhat rougher.

But it truly was not especially barbaric.

At the very least—

Zheng Fan could identify with it.

Yet now as the cavalry trampled the aristocratic clans a savage and primitive aura surrounding the state had begun growing thicker.

“Guess what Master is thinking right now?” A’Ming asked Siniang.

“Being sentimental.

“Like a poet walking the frontier.

“He inevitably starts drowning in sorrow.”

“Does that mean the next step is composing poetry?”

“That is the problem.

“Every poem Master can recite— we can recite too.

“He can’t even enjoy plagiarizing them.”

“True.”

“Truthfully—

Master is rather pitiful.

“At home, you lot torment and incite him.

“He goes to the capital once— and gets educated by the Marquis of Jingnan.”

“You— as usual have conveniently removed yourself from the list.”

“At least I can bring Master a little comfort to body and mind.

“Can you?”

“…”

A’Ming fell silent.

“Actually, I’ve always wondered— if we had awakened in Qian instead would things have been better?”

Hearing this, A’Ming smiled.

He said, “We could copy poems.

“Paint…

“Master probably wouldn’t be bad at that either.

“Pretend to be a scholar and refined gentleman.

“If nothing else worked, he could take the imperial examinations.

“Take things slowly.

“At least he could have spring fireworks in one hand and an official’s black gauze hat in the other.”

“Yes.

“That sort of life would have been much more leisurely.

“And I could have gone to Xiahang and devoted myself to cultivating ‘slender horses.’”

“Then after Master made a name for himself— he could climb through the court while earning silver.

“Then train a new army.”

“Mm.

“That would have been the rhythm.”

“Then Master would carry all of Qian’s hopes north on campaign.

“And here— right along this frontier he would meet the Marquis of Zhenbei.

“And the Marquis of Jingnan.

“And the Great Yan we are looking at right now?”

“Hiss…”

Siniang suddenly felt that image was too beautiful.

Beautiful enough to suffocate.

And after that there would be no after.

“People always say tragedy moves the heart most.

“But probably nobody actually wants his own life to end as one.”

“True.”

At that moment, Siniang suddenly thought of something.

She said, “There’s one matter that has been bothering me.”

“Speak.”

“During these days in the capital—

Master slept alone every night.”

“After that little family lesson, even though Master looked as though nothing happened, his emotions were clearly fluctuating heavily.

“It would be natural if he had no interest or mood for that sort of thing.”

A’Ming was analyzing it from a man’s perspective.

“Hoo.

“I understand that.”

“Yes.

“You should.”

“But— didn’t you notice something?”

“Notice what?”

“During our days in the capital, although we were always busy collecting the Tian Clan’s bodies and arranging burials— there was still plenty of free time.”

“Mm.

“And?”

“Did Master shoot you?”

“…”

A’Ming.

A’Ming’s eyes suddenly sharpened.

“You understand what I mean now?”

“I do.”

A’Ming immediately made as though to urge his horse forward and catch up to Zheng Fan.

But Siniang reached out and seized his reins.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking on Master’s body and mood.

“Talking with him more.

“Fulfilling the duty of a subordinate.”

“Not yet.”

“You aren’t worried?”

“I am.

“But we should wait.”

“Why?”

“Because I think this time—

Master is deliberately… guarding against us.”

(End of Chapter)