Chapter 159: The Zhenbei Army Marches South

Any place, once it became large enough, formed its own circles.

People clustered together.

That was only natural.

Those from the east side of a city looked down on those from the west.

People inside the walls looked down on people outside.

On a larger scale, the people of Qian generally regarded the people of Yan with the mentality used for looking at barbarians.

Naturally, they looked down on them too.

Beifeng Commandery bordered the desert.

The rise of the Silk Road in recent years had improved life there somewhat.

But Yinlang Commandery was Yan's "Little Jiangnan."

First, because it stood close to Qian and had become a center for commercial exchange.

Second, one had to trace matters back a century.

After the first Marquis of Zhenbei rode through three commanderies of Qian, he forcibly relocated a large portion of their population.

As a result, instead of declining after the war a century ago, Yinlang Commandery became enormously enriched.

That same act also left Qian's three northern commanderies badly weakened all the way to the present day.

For one thing, places garrisoned by heavy armies were rarely pleasant places for ordinary people to live.

For another, the Three Frontiers remained permanently under the shadow of war.

Apart from filling military households, the Qian court never made any particular effort to restore or develop them.

In that respect, the region resembled Fujian in earlier times.

The people of Yinlang Commandery possessed a pride of their own.

Normally, when they saw merchant caravans or travelers arriving from Beifeng Commandery, their hearts carried a certain superior attitude.

They would ask questions like:

How are things over there?

What do you people do during festivals?

Can your children even attend private schools?

All merely setting the stage so they could show off how good life was on their own side.

But this time when a group of black-armored riders entered the outskirts of Yin City, the people of Yinlang Commandery looked at them without the slightest contempt or regional discrimination.

Instead their faces showed excitement.

Word spread rapidly.

The people inside and outside Yin City erupted.

Without rehearsal or organization, the scene described by the phrase "bringing baskets of food and jars of drink to welcome the king's army" actually formed on its own.

The people of Yin City took out grain from their homes.

They brought cured meat, rice cakes, and other New Year provisions stored for winter.

Without stinginess and with tremendous generosity, they voluntarily carried them into the army camps to comfort the troops.

Young women and married women cast flirtatious glances.

Men, old and young alike, cheered with everything they had.

The Zhenbei Army vanguard, newly arrived in Yinlang Commandery, was caught somewhat unprepared by the reception.

They genuinely had not expected treatment like this.

There were three main reasons for the scene.

First, Yan possessed a strong martial tradition.

Although the state had enjoyed several decades of relative peace, the hot blood passed down from ancestors who had gripped sabers, mounted horses, and ridden out to fight the barbarians still lived in Yan bones.

As a result, civil officials in Yan had never managed to suppress the standing of military men.

If anything, military commanders often enjoyed the upper hand.

Yan society likewise possessed none of Qian's traditional contempt expressed in sayings such as "good men do not become soldiers, good iron is not made into nails."

Second, Beifeng Commandery's merchants, travelers, and migrants might suffer regional discrimination.

But for nearly a century, the Zhenbei Army had guarded the desert and suppressed the barbarians, preventing barbarian cavalry from riding a single step south.

That enormous achievement had turned the Zhenbei Army into something close to a guardian deity—or even a totem—in the hearts of ordinary Yan people.

Third, anyone who was not an idiot knew the state was now at war.

True, people had heard drums and gongs for a long time without yet seeing the main performance.

True, Yinlang Commandery already possessed its own Jingnan Army garrison.

But ordinary people feared war.

Even Yan commoners, fierce to the bone, still carried fear toward it.

Now the Zhenbei Army had arrived.

The strongest army in the entire Great Yan had come.

To the common people, that was the greatest security imaginable.

Their excitement and cheering were therefore perfectly understandable.

Zheng Fan came with A'Ming.

Unless special circumstances dictated otherwise, whenever Garrison Commander Zheng left home, he liked bringing A'Ming along.

What leader would dislike a subordinate willing to block bullets without hesitation?

And he was not a disposable item either.

Take him home.

Let him recover.

Next time, he could block another bullet.

Absolutely wonderful.

Zheng Fan also brought thirty personal cavalry with him.

Once, he had run into trouble at the relay station outside Yin City.

Another time, on the road home from Nanwang City, someone had stopped him and asked directions.

Garrison Commander Zheng had decided that the lone-wolf style needed changing.

If you already had subordinates, better to bring some along.

At the very least, they could help cover your retreat.

"Whoa.

"That's lively."

The area outside the Zhenbei Army camp was packed with people.

Commoners had gathered spontaneously to display their enthusiasm.

Fortunately, Zheng Fan had worn armor this time.

His riders were armored too.

And more than half of Green Willow Fortress's equipment imitated Zhenbei Army patterns.

So the watching commoners assumed some Zhenbei Army Lieutenant Commander was returning to camp and naturally opened a path.

After entering, Zheng Fan glanced back at the riders who had followed him.

Every one held eggs or rice cakes.

Several even had silk ribbons hanging from their bodies.

This was how Yan women expressed affection.

It was not especially surprising.

These former great-clan soldiers had once been young masters of aristocratic houses.

Their looks and bearing were naturally decent.

Receiving this much attention was perfectly normal.

Zheng Fan looked down at his own completely empty hands.

Then he turned toward A'Ming and laughed.

"How come you didn't receive any ribbons?"

A'Ming helplessly opened one of his pockets.

He pulled out an entire tangled bundle.

"............" Zheng Fan.

A'Ming continued sitting lazily on his horse.

His entire posture seemed to say:

I never intended to show off.

You were the one who insisted on looking for balance.

After their token and identities were verified, Zheng Fan's group was permitted to enter the inner camp.

Yes.

The person who had summoned him this time was not the Marquis of Jingnan.

It was the Marquis of Zhenbei.

A Lieutenant Commander led the way.

Zheng Fan's subordinates could go no farther.

Discipline inside the camp was strict.

A'Ming handed Zheng Fan the box containing Prince Fu's head.

"Master.

"Your fortune bag."

Zheng Fan accepted his "fortune bag" and continued inward.

Rows upon rows of tents surrounded him.

Layer after layer.

Everything looked exceptionally solemn.

It reflected the severity of Zhenbei Army discipline.

Only after personally commanding soldiers had Zheng Fan truly understood one principle: an army without discipline could never accomplish great things.

You might rely on rewards or a commander's speech to whip everyone into a frenzy and send them swarming forward.

It could look effective for a time.

But it could not last.

That sort of force might bully trash-tier opponents.

Against another elite army it would collapse.

Zheng Fan entered the core area at the center of the camp.

There he saw Li Liangshen.

The Sixth Prince had introduced the man to him back at the Marquis of Zhenbei's residence.

Li Liangshen sat on a round log with his eyes closed.

Beside him, stabbed into the earth, stood an ancient-looking broad sword somewhat reminiscent of weapons from the pre-Qin era.

Zheng Fan arrived.

Li Liangshen did not even open his eyes.

Through Hero Chen, Zheng Fan had heard some jianghu stories and knew that Commander Li Liangshen was one of the Four Great Swordsmen.

But compared with the other three, this "swordsman" serving inside an army truly seemed to profane the popular imagination of an immortal sword cultivator.

Of course, this was not like those later-era rankings where people had to pay money to appear or hire armies of online fans to manipulate the numbers.

Li Liangshen's presence among the Four Great Swordsmen genuinely had nothing to do with his own wishes.

The Sword Saint of Jin was a madman.

Among the Four Great Swordsmen, one man had been praised onto the list by him.

Li Liangshen had been put there because the Sword Saint personally came looking for him and fought him.

Continuing inward, Zheng Fan saw a huge man sitting bare-chested.

The man held a roasted flatbread and took bite after bite.

At his feet sat a plate filled with peeled garlic cloves.

People who disliked garlic refused to eat even one clove.

But for people who loved it, no matter what dish they ate, the flavor felt half missing without garlic.

The huge man's name was Li Bao.

He too was one of the Zhenbei Army's Seven Commanders.

Another man was named Li Yuanhu.

Together, the pair were known as the Tiger and Leopard of the Marquis of Zhenbei's household.

When Li Bao saw Zheng Fan approaching, he even gave him a simple, honest smile.

The sight immediately reminded Zheng Fan of his own Fan Li.

Zheng Fan bent slightly and saluted.

Then he continued following the Lieutenant Commander.

Outside the main tent sat two men.

One was an old acquaintance—

Qingshuang, who had once joined Zheng Fan in that grand "fashion show" inside the Yanjing imperial palace.

The other had an unusually long, narrow face.

He looked remarkably similar to one of those surviving portraits of Zhu Yuanzhang—whether that portrait had been blackened by later generations or accurately restored, who knew.

The Sixth Prince had once told Zheng Fan that among the Seven Commanders there was one man with a horse face.

His name was Li Fusheng.

He acted ruthlessly and particularly enjoyed exterminating entire clans.

Whenever the Zhenbei Army campaigned against barbarian tribes in the desert, if Li Fusheng led the army, he would invariably destroy an entire tribe before returning.

In truth, Li Fusheng was not young.

Outside, people often said the Seven Commanders of the Marquis of Zhenbei's household included six men surnamed Li, and that all except Qingshuang were adopted sons of the Marquis.

That was not actually true.

Jianghu rumors were naturally shaped into whatever version people most liked hearing.

The real reason six of them bore the Li surname came from Yan tradition.

Yan had endured centuries of great-clan rule.

A "surname" had ceased being merely a symbol of inheritance.

It also represented political and social power.

Before the Yan Emperor trampled the great clans, members of Yan's upper and middle strata usually introduced themselves by placing a location before a surname.

In that sense, it somewhat resembled contemporary Western naming conventions where people described themselves as the son of someone, grandson of someone, or someone "of" a certain place.

That was the social custom.

Naturally, the Marquis of Zhenbei's household could not avoid it either.

If you wanted to follow me first take my surname.

From now on, we're one family.

Back when the Princess wanted to take Zheng Fan in as a Li Clan household retainer, if he had truly accepted, Zheng Fan would have needed to change his name to "Li Fan."

The younger Commanders, Qingshuang included, did treat the Marquis of Zhenbei almost like an adoptive father.

But Li Fusheng looked perhaps only seven or eight years younger than Li Liangting.

There was simply no way the two could maintain a genuine father-son relationship.

"Zheng Fan."

Qingshuang introduced him to Li Fusheng.

The introduction truly could not have been simpler.

Li Fusheng looked Zheng Fan up and down.

Then said, "Oh."

He could scarcely have sounded colder.

Ever since entering the heart of the military camp, Zheng Fan felt as though he had been walking through a male-model runway.

Fortunately, back at the Yanjing imperial palace, he had personally watched the Yan Emperor walk out together with the Marquises of north and south in what was probably the greatest male idol group of this entire era.

So he could maintain inner calm.

Qingshuang pointed toward the large tent behind them.

"The Marquis is waiting for you inside."

Zheng Fan nodded.

Then he smiled politely at Li Fusheng.

Li Fusheng let out several strange chuckles.

"Heh heh heh heh."

He pointed toward Zheng Fan.

"The Marquis said this boy has worlds hidden in his eyes.

"I don't see any worlds.

"I do see that he's quite similar to me.

"Both of us are ruthless bastards."

"............" Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan wasted no more time.

He lifted the tent flap and entered.

He had been preparing to announce himself by his old title former Lieutenant Commander of Merchant Protection stationed at Tiger Head City under the Zhenbei Army and pay respects to the Marquis of Zhenbei.

Instead, he froze.

The Marquis of Jingnan was inside too.

Garrison Commander Zheng immediately changed his words.

"Zheng Fan, Garrison Commander of Green Willow Fortress, pays respects to the Marquis of Jingnan and the Marquis of Zhenbei!"

A man had to remember whose rice he currently ate.

Garrison Commander Zheng kept that distinction perfectly clear.

The Marquis of Jingnan sat in the seat of honor.

That was rather strange.

Inside the Zhenbei Army's own camp, the man occupying the highest seat was Tian Wujing rather than Li Liangting.

What Zheng Fan did not know was that Tian Wujing had been granted full command over the coming campaign.

Even Li Liangting had to obey his deployments.

At first glance, it sounded almost absurd.

Two hundred thousand Zhenbei Army troops had marched south.

The Jingnan Army had only fifty thousand.

Fortunately, Zheng Fan had already seen plenty of "absurd" arrangements like this inside the Great Yan.

So he no longer found them especially difficult to understand.

Li Liangting sat below.

He held a handful of sugar-roasted chestnuts and ate them one by one.

Zheng Fan knew the Marquis of Zhenbei had grown up poor.

So he was not at all surprised that every time he saw the man, Li Liangting seemed to be eating something.

"Little Zheng."

The Marquis of Zhenbei called out.

If Tian Wujing had not been here, Zheng Fan truly would have wanted to follow the cue and answer:

"Yes, this slave is here."

Thinking about history from his previous life—

Marquis of Huaiyin Han Xin could endure humiliation beneath another man's crotch.

Qi Jiguang, in order to curry favor with Zhang Juzheng, could call himself the man's household dog while paying respects.

Garrison Commander Zheng felt he had no great dignity he could not put aside.

Besides, the Marquis of Zhenbei was already getting old.

He could treat it as humoring the family's senile old man.

But Tian Wujing was here.

Zheng Fan genuinely felt the awkwardness of standing beside the person you were cheating with while your actual husband was present.

So he could only answer with complete respect.

"My lord. This subordinate is here."

"Last time in the imperial garden, you gave this Marquis a number of proposals.

"Have you seen any results yet?"

"My lord, this subordinate imagined the Qian people as too foolish."

The original core of Zheng Fan's proposal had been to use small detachments to raid and harass.

Pressure Qian.

Draw the elite forces of the Three Frontiers out.

Then look for a chance to devour them.

But the Qian had not taken the bait.

Grand Commandant Yang had not been replaced.

Instead, Qian had begun implementing scorched-earth defenses on a large scale.

It refused field battle entirely.

It refused to give Yan any opportunity.

The Marquis of Zhenbei shook his head.

"Times change.

"Qian has vast territory and a huge population.

"They could hardly all be idiots."

This was effectively Li Liangting helping Zheng Fan make excuses.

"Your lordship is correct."

"Whether this Marquis is correct doesn't matter."

The Marquis of Zhenbei's words carried another meaning.

At that moment, Tian Wujing, seated in the place of honor, lowered his gaze toward Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan instantly felt the pressure around him rise sharply.

Strictly speaking, he had only met the Marquis of Zhenbei twice.

This counted as the second meeting.

No matter how one calculated it, Zheng Fan had a much closer relationship with the Marquis of Jingnan.

But Tian Wujing's act of exterminating his entire clan had genuinely terrified Garrison Commander Zheng's small and fragile heart.

He had even suffered nightmares after returning.

So when facing the Marquis of Jingnan the more familiar Zheng Fan became with him, the more afraid he felt.

"Garrison Commander Zheng," the Marquis of Jingnan said.

"This subordinate is here!"

"How many armored troops does Green Willow Fortress currently possess?"

"Reporting to my lord, this subordinate can deploy twenty-five hundred cavalry.

"Every rider fully armored.

"Two horses per man!"

"It is a pity Garrison Commander Zheng does not conduct business for a living."

Thud!

Garrison Commander Zheng dropped directly to his knees in fright.

This was genuine fear.

Not the slightest bit of acting was involved.

In this life, aside from occasionally finding time to cultivate himself to Eighth Grade as a Martial Artist, Zheng Fan had spent most of his energy learning how to perform.

How could he possibly miss the meaning beneath the Marquis of Jingnan's words?

Some things could be hidden from Xu Wenzu.

Trying to hide them from the Marquis of Jingnan?

Difficult.

The situation throughout Yinlang Commandery perhaps even the entire front against Qian probably never escaped this man's eyes.

The head of the Secret Intelligence Department across Yinlang Commandery and the Qian front was his woman.

Avoiding battle before an engagement in order to preserve one's strength was a grave military taboo.

No superior commander could tolerate it.

It touched the dragon's reverse scale.

And the Marquis of Jingnan was the kind of man who exterminated his own clan the moment he decided to.

Even if he appreciated Zheng Fan, one casual wave of his hand would still be enough to have Zheng Fan beheaded.

This time, Zheng Fan had only brought thirty cavalry.

Inside this camp, those thirty riders were practically a joke.

Oh.

There was also A'Ming.

But there was no need for the entire army to act.

Any one of the four Zhenbei Army Commanders outside could probably pound the current A'Ming into a leaking meatball.

"Hahaha."

The Marquis of Zhenbei laughed happily.

He looked like some husband's male best friend during a marital argument—pretending to mediate while actually pouring oil on the flames.

"Garrison Commander Zheng is usually such a clever man.

"How did you manage to do something so foolish?

"Everyone in the Great Yan knows how strict the Jingnan Army is with military discipline.

"Aiya..."

Tian Wujing calmly looked down at Zheng Fan.

One sentence.

Zheng Fan had understood everything.

That actually created an awkward silence afterward.

Sometimes, having a subordinate who was too clever was not necessarily useful.

The Marquis of Zhenbei continued adding fuel.

"Little Zheng.

"Tell me.

"What do you plan to use to exchange for that head of yours?

"I heard you cut off quite a few Wolf Native heads before.

"But that little fatty Xu Wenzu already gave you fifteen hundred barbarian cavalry.

"That military merit was settled long ago.

"So now—what will you use to buy back your own head?"

The Marquis of Zhenbei glanced toward Tian Wujing in the seat above.

Then continued.

"This Marquis pleaded for you.

"But your Marquis is an iron-faced bastard who recognizes military law and nothing else.

"Tch, tch.

"He says he wants to behead you.

"And he absolutely insists on beheading you.

"This Marquis spoke an entire basket of good words on your behalf.

"Unless—you can bring back the head of a Qian Prince and exchange it for your own life.

"But Little Zheng, you still..."

The Marquis of Zhenbei first used the words Tian Wujing had spoken earlier to seal off Tian Wujing's response.

Then he began dropping hints.

The first attempt at poaching this talent had failed.

Fine.

Try a second time!

Unfortunately, before the Marquis of Zhenbei could finish—

Zheng Fan immediately pushed forward the box beside him.

He opened it.

His forehead touched the ground.

Then he said, "The head of Prince Fu of Chu Prefecture in the State of Qian—is here!"

"............" Marquis of Zhenbei.

Li Liangting's left hand abruptly clenched.

The remaining half-handful of chestnuts crumbled directly into powder.

He lifted his head and looked toward the Marquis of Jingnan in the seat of honor.

Tian Wujing remained perfectly calm.

Motherfucker.

That bastard had known all along that this Zheng brat had cut off a Qian Prince's head!

These two were already singing a duet together.

And what the hell did that make him jumping up and down between them?

The Marquis of Jingnan spoke calmly.

"Very well.

"I'll give the Marquis of Zhenbei this face."

"............" Marquis of Zhenbei.

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(End of Chapter)