Chapter 314: The Marquis of Jingnan Takes the Field

Inside the military camp, Shengle’s soldiers were drilling under Liang Cheng’s command while General Zheng sat atop a watchtower, basking in the sun and dozing.

He was clearly in the middle of a war zone, yet General Zheng had somehow cultivated the peaceful air of an old farmer lazily sunning himself beside the fields.

The other three soldiers stationed on the watchtower were beside themselves with excitement at having such a rare chance to be this close to General Zheng. Their bodies were tense, backs ramrod straight, eyes wide as they scanned every direction. They were putting a hundred times more effort than usual into keeping watch. They had to protect the General they revered.

In truth, Zheng Fan had already begun regretting something.

Why had he left two Demon Kings behind to guard the house?

Wasn’t that a waste?

If he had known things would be this dull, he would have brought Siniang along on campaign.

Across the Wang River, both the Chu army and the savages had begun making a series of deployments. With the river freezing over, they had no choice but to prepare.

Clearly, neither the Savage King nor Qu Tiannan, Chu’s Pillar of State, had allowed their previous great victory to make them lower their guard against Yan’s iron cavalry—especially now that they had lost both the Wang River’s natural barrier and the support of the river fleet.

On Yingdu’s side, ever since his defeat, the First Prince had been reorganizing the defensive lines, absorbing Dacheng’s auxiliary troops, straightening out the little Dacheng court, and stockpiling grain and supplies from every possible source.

Whatever else one might say, one thing was certain: even after this war ended, the people of Dacheng would probably need at least two years to recover anything resembling their former vitality.

Large groups of refugees had already appeared. Under these circumstances, many commoners had begun voting with their feet and migrating westward. And because the Situ Clan had submitted to Yan, local officials did not dare stop them.

Shengle City, which had always suffered from a labor shortage, had recently accepted quite a few of those refugees and profited handsomely from the influx.

Of course, that was not necessarily a bad thing. It could be seen as drawing on Dacheng’s potential in advance, and it would also make the region easier for Yan to govern after the war.

The prerequisite, naturally, was that there had to be an *after the war*.

If they lost this battle, or if the stalemate continued indefinitely, all those earlier plans would amount to nothing.

The winter sun felt pleasantly warm on his body. Zheng Fan cracked one eye open, then slowly closed it again.

At the moment, aside from sleeping, there was genuinely nothing else for him to do.

Just then, a warning arrow whistled through the air. One of the soldiers beside Zheng Fan immediately dropped to one knee.

“General, riders approaching from outside!”

“Mm.”

Zheng Fan nodded, not thinking much of it. His camp was relatively independent, but it was not completely cut off from Yingdu. Messengers still traveled back and forth from time to time to exchange information.

Of course, that was about as far as their interaction went.

Back when the First Prince had first led the Eastern Expedition, Jingnan Army commanders like Zheng Fan and Chen Yang had already been able to ignore him outright. Now that the First Prince had suffered a defeat, his prestige had long since plummeted even further.

But very soon, three riders reached the foot of the camp and shouted at the top of their lungs:

“General of Shengle Zheng Fan—receive the Marquis of Jingnan’s military order!”

...

The Shengle Army, which had been camped northwest of Yingdu for quite some time, finally broke camp and began moving.

Zheng Fan, accompanied by A’Ming and more than a dozen armored guards, obeyed the Marquis of Jingnan’s military order and headed for Yingdu.

By coincidence, halfway there he ran into Chen Yang, who was traveling with his own group of guards.

Zheng Fan’s formal military rank was still slightly below Chen Yang’s. But Zheng Fan’s relationship with the Marquis of Jingnan was different from that of ordinary officers. So while Chen Yang would not put on airs before Zheng Fan, neither would he deliberately curry favor with him.

Oddly enough, that made their interactions extremely comfortable.

The two parties merged. Neither commander said anything. They merely exchanged a smile, then continued toward Yingdu together.

The Marquis of Jingnan had come.

In truth, he had come very slowly. How many armies had been waiting outside Yingdu for him?

Yet he had also come very quickly.

The “quickly” lay in the fact that there had been no warning whatsoever.

But no matter how one looked at it, he had arrived.

And once he arrived, the war could continue.

For so many years, this was the first time Yan had suffered such a severe setback in a foreign war.

It was time to recover lost face.

When Zheng Fan and Chen Yang were a little more than ten li from Yingdu, they spotted a small Jingnan Army column ahead.

There were barely a hundred men.

Yet one rider among them stood out with absolute clarity.

A Pixiu was far taller than an ordinary warhorse, and when combined with that suit of gilded armor, it was impossible not to notice.

This should have been the Marquis’s advance party.

Another thirty thousand Jingnan Army troops were still on the road and would probably arrive the following day.

Zheng Fan had asked the messenger about the numbers earlier. Given his status, there was nothing inappropriate about the question, and the messenger had not concealed anything.

Yes.

The Marquis of Jingnan had brought only thirty thousand Jingnan troops as reinforcements.

In reality, there were far more Jingnan troops stationed across the Jin lands.

Before the war among the three states, the Jingnan Army had consisted of fifty thousand regulars and another fifty thousand in the rear camp as reserves.

During the great three-state war, the Jingnan Army had suffered considerable losses, just like the Zhenbei Army. But after the war ended, the Jingnan Army’s ability to replenish its ranks had been astonishingly fast.

Liang Cheng had once explained it like this: the Jingnan Army’s original regular force had been relatively small, so the Marquis of Jingnan had demanded exceptional quality from every soldier. Their individual standards were extremely high. It was somewhat similar to Germany between the First and Second World Wars, when ordinary soldiers were cultivated almost as reserve officers. Once the time came, manpower could be expanded with astonishing speed.

By rough estimate, the Jingnan Army in the Jin lands should now number around one hundred and fifty thousand.

That did not even include the Jin auxiliary forces attached to it.

Strictly speaking, Zheng Fan’s troops were not part of the Jingnan Army’s formal regular establishment. Because so many of his soldiers were Jin troops, his force resembled an “auxiliary army” more closely.

Originally, everyone had assumed that if the Marquis of Jingnan came personally, he would bring at least seventy or eighty thousand Jingnan troops.

They needed not only to replace the losses suffered by the Eastern Expedition Army’s left wing, but also to ensure that the new army surpassed the pre-battle Eastern Expedition Army in troop quality and fighting strength.

Yet the Marquis had brought only thirty thousand.

One could explain it by saying that too many places in the Jin lands still needed guarding and suppression. The Nanmen Pass line needed defenders. The Litian City region needed to be watched. And because Li Bao had died, part of the defensive zone originally assigned to Quhe City also had to be taken over by the Jingnan Army.

But those were still merely explanations.

If the Marquis truly wanted to bring seventy or eighty thousand, there would have been no problem.

If he were willing to gamble everything, he could even have brought one hundred thousand Jingnan troops together with another fifty or sixty thousand Jin auxiliaries.

Perhaps this was simply why famous commanders were famous.

Looking back over the Marquis of Jingnan’s campaigns, his greatest victories had almost all been won with fewer troops against more.

That was exactly why every victory carried such weight.

The column ahead seemed to notice Zheng Fan and Chen Yang approaching. It stopped, apparently waiting for them.

Zheng Fan and Chen Yang urged their horses forward together. Once they reached the group, both dismounted.

“This subordinate, Zheng Fan, greets the Marquis!”

“This subordinate, Chen Yang, greets the Marquis!”

“Rise.”

“Thank you, Marquis!”

“Thank you, Marquis!”

Only after standing did Zheng Fan finally have a chance to look carefully at Tian Wujing.

He discovered that Tian Wujing was not looking at him at all.

In the past, Tian Wujing probably would have exchanged a few words with him.

This time, there was nothing.

The aura surrounding the Marquis of Jingnan was one of isolation and indifference.

That head of white hair made Zheng Fan’s chest ache a little.

The group continued moving and soon arrived outside Yingdu.

The city had already been informed in advance. From nobles and officials to ordinary commoners, people poured outside the gates to welcome this renowned Southern Marquis of Yan.

There was, however, one extremely awkward problem.

The actual imperial decree appointing him had not yet reached Yingdu.

According to normal court procedure, the Marquis of Jingnan should first receive the imperial decree. He would then need some time to prepare. After that, the senior eunuch who had proclaimed the decree to him would continue to Yingdu and proclaim a second decree there.

That second decree contained the First Prince’s demotion and punishment: he would be reduced from Commander-in-Chief of the Eastern Expedition Army to an Assistant General in a Vanguard Battalion.

It also contained a series of personnel changes.

And finally, it would formally inform the Situ Clan that the Yan court had replaced the person in charge of the war and that Dacheng was to cooperate fully with logistics and military support.

But the first two eunuchs had failed to deliver their decrees.

They had smashed themselves to death.

Eunuch Huang had succeeded in proclaiming his decree, but after the Marquis of Jingnan said only, “I know,” he made no preparations and did not linger.

He simply ordered three ten-thousand-cavalry formations to follow him, then personally took a small guard detachment and rode east ahead of the army.

So the decree intended for Yingdu was still in Eunuch Huang’s possession.

And Eunuch Huang was still exhausting himself on the road, desperately hurrying east.

How could he possibly travel faster than the Marquis of Jingnan?

Certain decrees could not be issued in advance.

For example, until the Marquis of Jingnan had formally received his decree, the court could not change the First Prince’s position.

The reason was simple. The court understood that, despite the First Prince’s defeat, Yingdu still needed someone with enough status and authority to control the situation.

You could not remove the old commander before the new one had taken over and leave the front without even a nominal supreme commander.

That would be absurd.

Yet at this moment, the situation did not require a sheet of imperial paper to move forward.

The instant the Marquis of Jingnan appeared outside Yingdu, Situ Yu led the officials and retainers of the Prince’s Residence directly onto the main road outside the city gates and knelt in welcome.

Their voices rose together:

“This little Prince greets the Marquis of Jingnan!”

“We ministers greet the Marquis of Jingnan!”

A Prince kneeling to greet a Marquis looked absurd on the surface.

Yet neither the surrounding Yan troops, nor Dacheng’s soldiers, nor the civil and military officials nearby, nor even the commoners farther out felt there was anything improper about it.

True, if Situ Lei were still alive, he would not have needed to kneel.

But Situ Lei had been dead for quite some time. The new head of the Situ Clan was a half-grown child with little prestige of his own.

And besides, Yan’s Northern and Southern Marquises might carry the title of “Marquis,” but in actual status and authority, how were they any different from princes?

Princes with armies in their hands.

More importantly, the Yan army had just suffered defeat. The people of Chu and the savages on the eastern bank of the Wang River could cross west at any moment.

Everyone was frightened.

Under those circumstances, the importance of the Marquis of Jingnan became even more obvious.

“Li Fusheng, Chief Commander of the Zhenbei Army, greets the Marquis of Jingnan!”

Li Fusheng also knelt before Tian Wujing.

The First Prince silently removed the Son of Heaven’s Sword from his waist.

Then he took off the commander’s seal and command talisman as well.

He placed all three on the ground before him, stepped back two paces, and knelt.

“Ji Wujiang greets the Marquis!”

There was no imperial decree.

No great army behind him.

Only the man himself and a handful of personal guards.

He had not even spoken a word.

And yet the entire city of Yingdu, the whole Eastern Expedition Army of Great Yan, and Dacheng’s forces as well had already passed into his hands.

Such was his prestige.

Tian Wujing dismounted from the Pixiu and slowly walked toward the kneeling crowd.

His armor rubbed softly with each step, producing a low, heavy rustle.

He stopped before the First Prince.

Before the former Commander-in-Chief of the Eastern Expedition Army, who had voluntarily surrendered his seal.

Then he said:

“Rise.”

“Thank you, Marquis!”

“Thank you, Marquis!”

Situ Yu and the Dacheng officials rose.

Li Fusheng and the Yan generals rose as well.

The First Prince hesitated briefly and began to stand.

But a boot landed on Ji Wujiang’s shoulder.

*BANG!*

The First Prince was kicked flat onto the ground.

In an instant, the entire area fell silent.

The one who kicked him was naturally the Marquis of Jingnan.

The one kicked was the eldest son of the Emperor of Yan.

And it had happened before countless watching eyes.

Tian Wujing was the First Prince’s “maternal uncle.”

Not by blood.

But by the customs of the age, the maternal family of the principal wife naturally extended its kinship status to concubine-born sons as well.

Tian Wujing’s elder sister was the Empress.

So naturally, he was the maternal uncle of every imperial prince.

But even setting aside his status as an elder, setting aside his title as Marquis of Jingnan, and looking purely at the difference in personal strength the First Prince had virtually no possibility of resisting Tian Wujing anyway.

This was a Marquis who had defeated the Sword Saint.

After being kicked down, the First Prince did not bother wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

He did not even stop to regulate the internal injury caused by the violent surging of his qi and blood.

He immediately knelt before Tian Wujing again.

“Left wing, central army, right wing.

“Three armies.

“Three different compositions.

“Who taught you to fight a war like that?”

Ji Wujiang’s body trembled.

He immediately pressed his forehead to the ground and shouted:

“Wujiang was wrong!”

If even ten thousand Zhenbei troops had been embedded within the left-wing army, the catastrophe of that day—the rout and the tens of thousands drowning in the river—would never have happened.

If a few wolves were placed among a flock of sheep, the sheep would naturally begin moving according to the wolves’ order.

That applied not only to discipline after crossing the river.

If even a single Zhenbei formation had been present when the savage assault began, it could have helped the coalition of regional military commanders withstand the first wave.

At the very least, the battle would have developed into a proper field engagement outside the camp.

Victory or defeat aside, the army would never have been compressed toward the river like ducks being driven into the water.

*BANG!*

Tian Wujing kicked the kneeling First Prince again.

Ji Wujiang was sent sprawling once more.

But almost immediately, gritting through the pain, he crawled back and knelt before the Marquis again.

“Wujiang was wrong!”

“You were commander at the front.

“His Majesty has never personally led troops in an external campaign in his entire life.

“There are things His Majesty does not understand.

“You don’t understand them either?

“Are you a general commanding troops in the field, or a clay idol standing inside the imperial court?”

The division into three separate armies had been decided by the Emperor of Yan.

Gathering Yan’s regional military commanders together and handing them to the First Prince so they could be tempered on the battlefield had likewise been the Emperor’s policy.

There was nothing inherently wrong with that.

It was one method of centralizing power.

The problem was that the three armies had departed as three armies and when the fighting began, they were *still* three armies.

The First Prince had merely disciplined the left wing.

He had never dismantled, mixed, and reintegrated the formations.

Back when the Marquis of Jingnan and Marquis of Zhenbei entered Nanmen Pass together to conquer Jin, the Zhenbei Army and Jingnan Army had not fought separate wars.

The Marquis of Zhenbei had handed over complete battlefield command, allowing the Marquis of Jingnan to deploy and allocate both armies as one.

Two great commanders.

Two ace armies.

And even *they* had integrated command before battle.

Who the hell did Ji Wujiang think he was to play it differently?

The last state to fight that way had been Qian.

Every local force had swarmed in separately.

The result?

Sixty thousand Zhenbei troops killed their way all the way to Shangjing.

Of course, the moment Tian Wujing said, “There are things His Majesty does not understand,” many hearts in the crowd skipped a beat.

Words this treasonous were probably words only the Marquis of Jingnan dared utter.

Prince of Cheng Situ Yu, the half-grown child who now headed the Situ Clan, watched Tian Wujing kick the First Prince again and again.

He was so frightened he was nearly in tears.

He almost wanted to kneel down again.

It was not that the boy was exceptionally cowardly.

He was still Situ Lei’s son.

He was not *that* pathetic.

The difference was that what Situ Yu perceived from this scene was not the same as what everyone else saw.

Others watched the Marquis of Jingnan kick the First Prince and felt the terrifying weight of Tian Wujing’s status, together with the extraordinary relationship among the Marquis of Jingnan, Emperor of Yan, and Marquis of Zhenbei.

Situ Yu felt something else.

He felt Tian Wujing’s contempt for imperial authority.

His contempt for bloodline.

And bloodline was the only reason Situ Yu himself was standing where he stood today.

Otherwise, what military merit did he possess?

What contribution?

What talent?

What had he done to deserve that position?

The First Prince was kicked down again and again.

Every time, he crawled back and knelt.

He did not resist in the slightest.

He did not even dare show anger on his face.

An elder disciplining a junior was perfectly proper.

Zheng Fan, standing farther back and watching the scene, found himself thinking that the Marquis of Jingnan truly did possess something of a tradition when it came to disciplining imperial princes...

Two imperial maternal clans had already been destroyed.

The Third Prince had technically been crippled by Zheng Fan himself, but that too had been done with Tian Wujing’s tacit approval.

The Emperor of Yan had six adult princes.

The Marquis of Jingnan had already dealt with three.

Today’s First Prince made four.

“You knew Chu’s river fleet had appeared.

“And yet you still forced the river crossing and attacked Yupan City.

“You thought you were throwing yourself into death to seek life.

“In truth, you simply could not accept losing!

“Because *you* refused to lose, you buried a Chief Commander and another five thousand elite Zhenbei soldiers with him!

“What the hell are you?

“Just because your surname is Ji, they are supposed to die for your stupidity?”

Once the Chu fleet appeared, the probability that Chu had also sent infantry was extremely high.

“Wujiang was wrong!”

The First Prince continued shouting his admission of guilt.

“Do not think that because you did not kill yourself, because you are still alive, you have endured some enormous humiliation.

“For a commander, defeat means incompetence.

“There is no other excuse!”

“Yes.

“Wujiang understands his mistake.”

At that moment, A’Ming, standing behind Zheng Fan, leaned closer and whispered:

“Master, isn’t this a little excessive?”

Doing this to the First Prince in front of everyone... tsk.

Zheng Fan shook his head slightly.

Then he whispered back:

“No.

“He’s willing.

“After taking this beating, he can finally put the burden down.”

[End of Chapter 314]