Chapter 161: Break the City!

The seat of Chu Commandery's government was Chuzhou City.

A funeral procession was preparing to leave the city amid the clamor of drums and mourning instruments.

But just as the coffin was almost through the gate one of the carrying poles unexpectedly snapped.

Two coffin bearers were injured.

Another was crushed to death on the spot.

And so the funeral procession became stuck directly at the city gate.

Prince Fu's heir, who was also the dutiful son about to inherit the title of Prince Fu, knelt beside the coffin and wailed loudly.

The Princess Consort led the women of the household in sobbing until they nearly fainted.

They were not crying for the coffin bearer who had just been crushed to death.

They were crying because old Prince Fu had departed this life so inauspiciously.

Outside the gates, the part of the procession that had already left the city had no choice but to stand aside and wait.

Old Xiao, who played the suona, sat on an open patch beside the official road.

His apprentice, Little Pockmark, busied himself preparing the water pipe for him.

Opium did not yet exist in this world.

But tobacco had already spread among ordinary people.

The cigarettes the Blind Man, Bei, made for Zheng Fan represented innovation in technique and production.

The tobacco itself was readily available for purchase.

Naturally, Qian's upper classes did not smoke tobacco.

Compared with Five Minerals Powder, tobacco barely counted as a drizzle.

Little Pockmark carefully lit the pipe for his master with a fire striker.

Old Xiao drew twice.

Blew out two clouds of smoke.

Then retched and spat out a huge glob of thick phlegm.

Little Pockmark immediately patted his master's back.

Old Xiao turned and looked toward the confusion at the gate.

He showed no impatience.

Instead, he told his apprentice, "Go call your Grandpa Kang over."

"Right away, Master."

Before long, an old man with a large gong hanging from his waist came over and squatted beside Old Xiao.

Old Xiao lowered his voice.

"Looks like the problem at the gate won't be sorted out soon."

"Naturally.

"Nothing is more taboo during a funeral procession than an accident like this.

"The carrying frame falling apart would've been bad enough.

"But now somebody's been crushed to death too.

"Blood's been spilled.

"See that official over there?

"I heard the Ministry of Rites sent him specifically to supervise the funeral.

"Look how anxious he is.

"He probably doesn't know how to deal with it either."

"I'm telling you, Old Kang, don't just stand around enjoying the excitement.

"Pass the word to everyone.

"We're definitely going to be delayed.

"We won't be back on the road for quite a while.

"When everything's fixed and we start moving again, tell everyone to take it easy and save their strength.

"If the officials above ask why, say we missed the meal hour and are too hungry to work properly.

"Either the Prince's residence gives us a meal—or they pay us another couple of coins."

"Fine.

"We'll do it your way.

"I'll go tell everyone."

"Make sure they're sharp about it.

"Everyone says he's hungry."

"I know, I know."

To an outsider, this group of funeral workers daring to squeeze extra payment from a Prince's residence might have seemed outrageously bold.

But these men had made their living from funerals all their lives.

They had seen too many dead people.

Courage came with the profession.

So what if it was a Prince's residence?

Could being a Prince's household somehow stop people from getting hungry?

Old Xiao lifted the water pipe again and took another two pulls.

At that moment, Little Pockmark leaned close and whispered, "Master.

"I heard the Prince inside that coffin... doesn't have a head."

Old Xiao's brow instantly furrowed.

He grabbed his apprentice and hissed, "Who told you?"

"Hua Cui'er told me.

"Her mother is a senior maid in the Prince's residence.

"When the Prince's coffin was brought back from the north, her mother helped prepare the body.

"Her mother never told her directly.

"But that night Hua Cui'er slept in the same room.

"Her mother had a nightmare and kept shouting, 'The Prince's head is gone! The Prince's head is gone!'"

Smack!

Old Xiao slapped Little Pockmark across the back of the head.

Lowering his voice fiercely, he cursed, "Don't you dare repeat this to anyone!

"This is the kind of thing that gets heads cut off!"

The severity in his master's eyes frightened Little Pockmark.

He immediately nodded frantically.

"Master, I only told you!

"I haven't told anyone else!

"I haven't!"

"You little bastard.

"Rot this matter inside your belly!"

"I understand, Master!

"I understand!"

Old Xiao lowered his head and took another two pulls from the water pipe.

Making a little extra money or cadging another meal when a funeral ran into trouble was perfectly normal business.

But certain matters were absolutely not something a commoner like him could touch.

Motherfucker.

Prince Fu really came back without his head!

Prince Fu's reputation had never been especially good.

Around Chuzhou City, whenever people mentioned him, everyone usually gave a contemptuous "heh," then started comparing him with the fat pig raised by the neighbor next door and speculating whether that pig would be big enough to slaughter at New Year.

But if you insisted on asking exactly how evil Prince Fu had been nobody could really say.

He simply had that fat-headed, big-eared appearance.

To common people, that alone made him look like nothing good.

The year before, a scholar had stood outside Prince Fu's residence and loudly cursed the Prince.

He said one sentence:

"Every scrap of flesh upon your body is the people's fat and marrow!"

Little Pockmark once asked what "the people's fat and marrow" meant.

Truthfully—

Old Xiao had no idea.

But how could a master reveal ignorance before an apprentice?

So he told him it meant pork-skin jelly.

Later, when an old private-school teacher's mother died and Old Xiao handled the funeral, he deliberately asked that teacher what the phrase actually meant.

The teacher nodded.

Then replied, "It does indeed resemble pork-skin jelly."

Old Xiao handed the water pipe to his apprentice.

Then reached into the cloth wrapped around his waist, pulled out a dry plant stalk, and began chewing it one bite at a time.

Some time ago, Prince Fu had left the residence to serve as an Imperial Commissioner.

Perhaps because he was so fat, Prince Fu rarely left his residence.

But the departure that time had been on an impressive scale.

Because outside Chuzhou City a group of Wolf Native Troops had arrived.

Old Xiao had even taken his apprentice to look at them.

Wolf Native Troops!

Something rare to see.

Years ago, those native troops had caused absolute chaos for the Great Qian in the southwest.

But native troops were still native troops.

They dressed strangely and looked like a pack of uncivilized monkeys.

And not one of them seemed to understand prices.

Whenever they bought something, merchants charged them forty or fifty percent more.

The fools were still delighted.

Heh.

A pack of country bumpkins.

That day, Old Xiao had personally seen Prince Fu head north together with the Wolf Native Troops.

Prince Fu was simply too easy to recognize.

Far too obvious.

What had he gone north to do?

Funeral workers worked when there was work.

When there wasn't, they gathered to gossip.

And their profession brought them into contact with all sorts commoners, merchants, officials, nobles.

After all, whether a man was rich or poor in life he still had to die.

So Old Xiao had heard certain rumors.

They said Grand Commandant Yang of the Three Frontiers was somewhat afraid of the Yan dogs.

Prince Fu had supposedly gone north under imperial order to reprimand him in his capacity as a Feudal Prince.

Made sense.

That Grand Commandant Yang was a eunuch.

No balls.

How could a man without balls ever get hard?

As for Yan people—

Old Xiao had seen plenty of Yan merchant caravans over the years.

In earlier times, he had also seen Yan scholars come through.

Yan people looked no different from Qian people.

Old Xiao did not know what fighting them would be like.

Supposedly Qian had fought Yan a century ago.

But a hundred years had passed.

Anyone who actually remembered that war was long dead.

Still, people said the Yan were good at fighting.

Old Xiao believed that part.

Yan people were poor.

Barefoot men did not fear men wearing shoes.

Poverty made people vicious!

Whether in the city or countryside, poor, vicious men like that were exactly the kind even local thugs and rogues avoided provoking.

Still best not to have war.

That was Old Xiao's simplest thought.

Not because he had seriously imagined how many people would die.

Not even because he had imagined he himself might die.

But because every village and town for dozens of li around had already begun suffering from the war.

Old Xiao himself was doing all right.

He had a trade.

As the saying went, in famine years a craftsman did not starve.

No matter what happened, he could still scrape together a life.

But farming households already lived hard lives.

A few months earlier, Wolf Native Troops and the Western Army had arrived one after another.

The Wolf Native Troops had actually been manageable.

A pack of country bumpkins.

But those damned penal soldiers speaking with western accents had done plenty of forced buying and forced selling.

They beat people.

Smashed stalls.

Ate without paying.

Pocketed things wherever they went.

Then the Zu Clan Army came through.

The Zu Clan Army was good.

They committed no offenses against the common people.

Even their marching formations looked neat.

But after that the Imperial Guards arrived.

Those people were animals!

Old Xiao could not understand it.

The Imperial Guards came from Upper Capital.

That was where the Emperor himself lived.

People even said gold foil sometimes floated on the Bian River running before Upper Capital.

Yet those Imperial Guards abducted women, murdered people, robbed households they did all of it.

The Prefect of Chuzhou personally went to complain to their commanding officer.

The military officer actually kicked the Prefect out!

What officer inside the Imperial Guards didn't have powerful backing?

After wreaking havoc for a while, the Imperial Guards finally continued north.

Everyone could finally breathe again.

But every time troops passed through, the local area had to levy grain once more.

Ordinarily, spring was the hardest season for farming households.

This year was different.

Winter had not even ended and plenty of homes had already run out of food.

But people still died.

And once someone died, neighbors and acquaintances still had to help with the funeral.

If the bereaved family knelt to you and their household genuinely had nothing left you could hardly force them to hand over money they did not have.

Old Xiao spat the chewed plant fibers from his mouth.

Then sighed inwardly.

This year was going to be hard.

The funeral procession stopped for most of the day.

Several waves of people came to advise them.

Then several groups of monks and Daoist priests arrived.

At last, Prince Fu's coffin was lifted again.

Old Xiao stood.

Everyone the musicians, the drummers, the hired mourners looked exhausted and weak.

This time they were not pretending.

They were genuinely starving.

The sun was almost down already!

The Prince's household fussed over every damned detail far more than ordinary families.

They had actually dragged this mess out for so long.

In reality, an accident involving the coffin during a funeral procession truly was a serious matter.

At the same time, the heir was about to inherit the princely title.

Much like a Crown Prince before inheriting the throne, even if he was secretly delighted inside, outwardly he had to radiate grief so everyone could witness his filial devotion.

Moreover, the imperial court had endless methods for making trouble for Feudal Princes.

Every few days, some new excuse appeared.

If the court learned that Prince Fu's coffin had suffered an accident, it might very well use the matter to create another issue perhaps accusing the heir of lacking filial virtue.

Most importantly the heir and Princess Consort both knew that when Prince Fu returned, his head was missing.

Yet they had never been told why.

They had only been warned by the Silver-Armored Guard commander stationed in Chuzhou City not to ask questions.

All those reasons, all those emotions, became tangled together.

Then this accident gave them an opening.

Everything burst out.

That was why the delay lasted so long.

Old Xiao suddenly felt his calves trembling.

He immediately reached out.

"Disciple..."

"Master?"

"Support me.

"I'm so hungry my legs are shaking."

"Master, I'm starving too.

"My legs are shaking too."

"You little bastard.

"You actually dare—"

"No, Master!

"I'm not shaking from hunger.

"The ground is shaking!"

Old Xiao froze.

He concentrated.

The earth really did seem to be trembling.

Then, Old Xiao raised his head.

Ahead, within his field of vision a vast black mass appeared.

Thud-thud-thud!

Thud-thud-thud!

Thud-thud-thud!

"Disciple!

"Move!"

Old Xiao reacted remarkably quickly.

He wrapped an arm around his apprentice and rolled sideways.

Behind them the sound of iron cavalry exploded like thunder.

Dust billowed upward until it nearly buried master and apprentice beneath a layer of earth.

Immediately afterward screams and miserable cries erupted all around.

Old Xiao failed to hear most of the shouting clearly.

Only one sentence reached him.

"THE YAN DOGS ARE HERE!"

Little Pockmark seemed to want to stand.

Old Xiao shoved his head down with both hands.

Mother of Heaven the Yan were here?

How could the Yan possibly be here?

Were the Three Frontiers destroyed?

Was the Western Army destroyed?

Were the Imperial Guards destroyed too?

The Zu Clan Army as well?

Old Xiao could not understand.

He had heard people calculate the numbers.

Supposedly the Great Qian had an army of a million men along the frontier!

Motherfucker.

Even if those were a million pigs wouldn't the Yan need a very long time to catch them?

How had they suddenly appeared at Chuzhou City?

Countless questions swirled through Old Xiao's head.

But all he could do was keep his apprentice pressed flat to the ground.

He did not dare raise his head.

Did not dare get up.

Behind him, the thunder of hooves on the official road seemed endless.

Wave after wave of cavalry swept past.

Despair rose inside Old Xiao.

He did not know where the feeling came from.

Perhaps it was merely instinct.

He almost found the exact thought ridiculous.

The source of his despair was Mother of Heaven.

Prince Fu's coffin is still blocking the city gate!

At a time like this, why the hell are you worrying about that?

How was that any of your business?

Old Xiao had no idea how long he lay there eating dust.

Long enough that his entire head became numb and dizzy.

Even after the thunder of hooves behind him had thinned for quite some time he failed to notice.

Until a pair of boots appeared before his face.

And one boot pressed lightly against his shoulder.

Old Xiao desperately wanted to keep playing dead.

But he did not dare.

He raised his head.

A young general in black armor stood before him.

Behind that general stood an enormous man who looked forged from iron.

Beside the giant stood another armored man whose eyes were closed.

"Hey.

"Get up."

Zheng Fan urged him.

Old Xiao immediately scrambled upright.

Little Pockmark rose too.

But just as master and apprentice attempted to stand both their legs went soft.

Thud.

They collapsed to the ground again.

The sight was ridiculous.

Almost funny.

Zheng Fan laughed.

But he was not laughing at the two men.

He was laughing because Chuzhou City stood before him far larger than Mianzhou City, capital of Qian's Chu Commandery and yet just like the first time Zheng Fan attacked Mianzhou City the Yan had simply charged through the gate!

The only difference was this:

Last time, Zheng Fan had too few troops inside Mianzhou City.

He had only managed to chop off some heads before being forced to leave.

This time although Li Fusheng had left half his command back in Beifeng Commandery, once Green Willow Fortress's cavalry was added, the force here still numbered nearly thirty thousand riders!

Thirty thousand iron cavalry had already entered the city.

With that weight pressing down—

Chuzhou City no longer had any chance to create serious trouble.

Yes.

Zheng Fan had appeared beneath Chuzhou City.

The Great Yan's iron cavalry had ignored Qian's Three Frontier strongholds.

Ignored the terrifying defensive camps built by the Western Army.

Ignored Qian's third defensive line.

It simply continued south.

South.

Further south.

Now the Yan army had jumped over all three defensive lines built by Qian's seven hundred thousand troops.

It had crossed the Three Northern Commanderies.

And entered deep into Chu Commandery, which bordered them.

The journey had actually taken quite a long time.

There had been very little fighting along the way.

Mostly they simply marched.

People in later generations often struggled to grasp the real movement speed and endurance of cavalry.

They imagined horsemen could ride absurdly fast for absurdly long distances.

In reality a cavalry formation covering one hundred kilometers in a day and night already counted as extremely intense marching.

If Yan cavalry did not usually have two horses per rider, even that pace would have been difficult.

The famous high-speed relay dispatch system achieved its speed by changing horses from station to station.

If an entire cavalry army tried sprinting like relay couriers, then before the battle even began, more than half the horses would collapse.

The Great Yan iron cavalry would immediately transform into Great Yan infantry.

As for those stories in novels and plays where some general supposedly led troops eight hundred li in a single day not entirely impossible.

Provided, of course, that every cavalryman was riding one of those high-bloodline Pi Beasts used by the Marquises of Zhenbei and Jingnan.

Once the Yan army neared Chu Commandery, it began splitting apart.

The forces spread in a fan like starving tigers pouncing upon prey and struck toward different regions of Chu Commandery.

Li Fusheng's force headed directly into the commandery's interior.

And picked up this enormous prize.

"Blind Man.

"Do you think the Qian troops along the frontier will return to rescue the interior?" Zheng Fan asked.

A century ago, the first Marquis of Zhenbei had broken five hundred thousand men with thirty thousand cavalry.

But that was an exception.

Neither Fatty Xu compared with the first Marquis of Zhenbei, nor did his tens of thousands of miscellaneous troops compare with those elite Yan riders from a century ago.

So if the Qian truly lost patience forget moving all three defensive lines.

If the Three Frontier armies of Wei Garrison, Liang Garrison, and Chen Garrison moved together, or if the Western Army alone advanced they could smash through Fatty Xu's miscellaneous forces, enter Yan territory, and perhaps even point their spearheads directly toward Yanjing.

The Blind Man smiled.

"Master, the question isn't whether they will.

"It's that they definitely will.

"Truthfully, this method of exchanging homes is something this subordinate never imagined before.

"But now, speaking as a hindsight strategist, it feels extremely reasonable.

"The Emperors on the two sides are different.

"Their generals are different too.

"The two Marquises dare completely abandon the Yan Emperor in Yanjing.

"The Yan Emperor definitely knew the strategic plan beforehand.

"And yet he dared place both his own life and his capital in this position.

"But the Qian Emperor—the Qian court—the Qian civil officials—and the Qian armies that have spent so many years suppressed and tamed by civil officials—they will never dare gamble on who can exchange capitals faster.

"They will return.

"They must return."

Zheng Fan closed his eyes.

He began recalling the road they had taken south.

Mostly plains.

Wide open terrain almost everywhere.

Qian's frontier armies would have to leave their fortified cities.

Leave their heavily prepared military camps.

Then hurry back to rescue the interior.

And waiting for them would be...

"Blind Man.

"Have you noticed?

"The solution we've spent day and night trying to imagine... was actually this simple."

The Blind Man, Bei, sighed.

"Master, our vantage point is still too low."

"Yes.

"Too low."

Zheng Fan shook his head.

Then looked toward the city.

The sounds of fighting inside had already begun fading.

Once iron cavalry successfully broke through the gate, whatever resistance remained inside a city like this became mostly ceremonial.

And from the sound of it even the ceremony did not appear particularly sincere.

By now, Old Xiao and Little Pockmark had finally managed to stand.

They stared fearfully at Zheng Fan and the others.

At these...

Yan dogs.

Zheng Fan pointed toward the suona in their hands.

"Play something."

"Yes!

"Yes, honored lord!

"Being able to play the suona for a nobleman like you is the accumulated blessing of eight lifetimes for this lowly man and his apprentice!"

Old Xiao immediately slapped Little Pockmark on the back of the head.

Master and apprentice puffed their cheeks and began playing.

At first the tune was cheerful and lively.

But after a while, tears began streaming down both their faces.

Not because they worried for the future of the state.

Purely because they were terrified.

Genuine emotion flooded through.

Naturally, the suona music became increasingly mournful.

Zheng Fan showed no anger.

Instead, he said to the Blind Man beside him, "This tune has some meaning.

"They've managed to play both uses of the suona in one piece."

The Blind Man nodded.

Fan Li understood none of it.

He simply continued standing there.

Zheng Fan drew in a deep breath.

Then slowly exhaled.

Thud!

Thud!

Old Xiao immediately stopped playing.

He and his apprentice dropped to their knees.

Old Xiao kowtowed rapidly.

"Honored lord, spare us!

"Spare us!

"This old man didn't do it on purpose!

"I didn't mean to!"

Seeing his master kneel, Little Pockmark immediately knelt and began crying too.

Noblemen naturally wanted festive music.

Yet the two of them had somehow turned it into funeral music.

Finished.

Finished.

We're going to die.

We're definitely going to die!

"Get up.

"It truly sounded good.

"I'm very satisfied."

Zheng Fan looked toward the setting sun.

Then sighed.

"First you hear the suona, never knowing why;
hear it once more—and in the coffin you lie."

Zheng Fan was rather pleased with the mood.

Unfortunately—

Liang Cheng came riding hard from the distance and shattered every trace of atmosphere with one sentence.

"Master!

"Li Fusheng intends to massacre the city!"

"HOLY SHIT!"

---

(End of Chapter)