Chapter 536: - Position

The hotpot had long since been taken off the fire, but Count Pingye’s heart was still churning.

The Prince of Jingnan had laid out the entire plan for the campaign against Chu before him. Even Zheng Fan, who had seen his share of storms, had been shaken by it.

This was what a war between states truly looked like. If the laborers were counted as well, millions of people were being drawn into it.

And this was Tian Wujing.

When drilling troops and conducting campaigns, he could peel apart every thread and attend to every last detail. Yet when it came to grand strategy, he could also sketch out the immense blueprint that existed only in his own mind.

The literati of Qian loved writing lines such as “rivers and mountains like a painting” or “how lovely are these rivers and mountains.” But in a general’s eyes, the realm was only one enormous sand table, covered in cities, lakes, mountains, and hills.

Whether those rivers and mountains were picturesque, generals did not know.

They did not care.

What they cared about was wielding the spears and iron cavalry beneath their command like a whip and lashing that vast, majestic land into submission.

As expected, Zheng Fan’s own place on that board had been arranged by the Prince of Jingnan long ago.

Looking back now, even the battle at Central Mountain Camp had been groundwork.

Zheng Fan had originally believed Tian Wujing was simply helping him seize the first great merit of the campaign. Now it appeared that had not been the true purpose.

The Prince of Jingnan’s probable intent had been to let Zheng Fan win substantial merit early while naturally wearing down a meaningful portion of his own strength. That would then give him an entirely legitimate reason to withdraw his force from the front line to rest and rebuild in the rear.

While he recovered and accumulated strength there, everything would quietly prepare the way for the later move: boarding ships, entering Chu, and launching the long-range strike on Jing City.

The battle for East Mountain Fort had introduced Shi Yuantang’s unexpected counterattack, but Zheng Fan had still forced the Chu back and taken the fort in the process.

That had not disrupted the Prince of Jingnan’s plan.

If anything, it had advanced it.

Zheng Fan’s force no longer needed to wait for anything. He could now openly withdraw to rest, replenish manpower, and rebuild his strength. The military achievements and battle record were solid enough that no one could criticize it to his face.

Even the Chu would find it perfectly normal if the “Zheng” banner vanished from the front line in the battles to come. Count Pingye and his troops disappearing from the first combat echelon of the Yan army would seem entirely reasonable.

After all, their casualties had been enormous.

The rapid fall of East Mountain Fort had accelerated Tian Wujing’s plan and given him even more room to maneuver when positioning this particular piece on the board.

He could even call Zheng Fan back to his side and continue teaching him personally.

Before a battle, generals gave speeches to their soldiers to inject a little extra killing intent into them before the charge.

By the same logic, the Prince of Jingnan naturally understood how demanding and difficult this great long-range strike would be for the commander leading it. Pulling Zheng Fan back to his side now was a chance to cram in a little more instruction before the exam.

That was the first reason.

The second was that during this period of “rest” and “development,” Zheng Fan would formally remain at Tian Wujing’s side, making his presence felt and raising his standing within the army campaigning against Chu.

Since ancient times, a leader’s trusted confidant naturally enjoyed exceptional status while remaining by that leader’s side. Those below would flatter and defer to him.

But once such a man was sent down to “gain experience,” the shortcomings behind the lofty reputation often became obvious. Those same people who had once flattered him would then watch coldly from the sidelines, waiting for him to make a fool of himself.

Men promoted only through favor were disliked in any organization.

Zheng Fan had no such weakness.

His military achievements were real.

In the Great Yan army... even among the armies of Chu, no one would question Count Pingye’s ability to wage war.

Add the Prince of Jingnan’s almost undisguised favor toward him, and raising Count Pingye’s status within the Great Yan army became an effort yielding twice the result for half the work.

A hot afternoon wind swept over them.

Only then did Zheng Fan finally calm down from the emotional storm that had followed the revelation of Tian Wujing’s plan.

He pointed toward the remaining hotpot stew and told Gongsun Zan and Gong Lin:

“Don’t waste food.”

“Yes, Count.”

“Yes, Count.”

Zheng Fan stood, then seemed to remember something.

“This afternoon, draw me a map of the defenses around the Prince’s command tent.”

Excitement immediately appeared on both young men’s faces.

They believed Count Pingye had begun teaching them.

In truth, Zheng Fan merely thought that leaving them here with nothing to do would make it awkward when he next met their fathers. So he casually assigned them some work. Whether it meant anything or not, at least they would be busy.

Leaving his own tent, Zheng Fan returned to the Prince’s command tent.

When he lifted the curtain, Tian Wujing was already seated in the place of honor.

And the spot where Zheng Fan had sat that morning was now buried beneath an even larger stack of memorials.

Zheng Fan said nothing.

He quietly returned to his seat and began reviewing them.

Memorials continued arriving, some from the rear and some from the front.

At the same time, Zheng Fan had to draft inquiries in the Prince of Jingnan’s name and send them back out.

He handled them just as before.

Routine matters full of familiar boilerplate were processed routinely.

Questions that required a decision but were not especially difficult received Zheng Fan’s own instructions.

Anything that still needed the Prince of Jingnan to glance over was placed separately.

When he finished and presented the piles, Tian Wujing ignored the other two stacks and picked up the three memorials Zheng Fan had set aside.

The first concerned a Garrison Commander under Xue Chugui who had been caught drinking in camp. Xue Chugui’s military discipline officer had recommended demotion, forfeiture of salary, and reassignment to the vanguard camp.

Zheng Fan’s written instruction had been:

Behead him. Make an example of him before the whole army.

The second concerned Ma Youliang’s force. During a failed assault on a fortified camp, a Centurion had died in battle. The dozen or so men who survived and withdrew had been sentenced to execution.

Under Yan military law, if a commanding officer died and the battle had not been won, surviving subordinates were to accompany him in death.

Zheng Fan’s instruction had been:

Revoke the executions. Send them to the vanguard to redeem themselves through service.

The third memorial concerned a mass brawl involving several hundred laborers in Luo Ling’s labor camp.

It had begun when laborers from the Jin lands discovered that their rations were worse than those issued to laborers from Yan and became angry.

The discipline officer had recommended executing the ringleaders from both sides, as well as the Lieutenant Commanders responsible for both labor camps, while flogging the followers.

In other words, thirty strokes for each side, figuratively speaking.

Zheng Fan’s instruction had been to punish only the Jin laborers and the officer commanding their camp.

Military punishment routinely drew blood.

An army was an instrument of killing. Its laws had to be harsh, otherwise there was no controlling a pack of men who lived with blood on their blades.

That was why military judgments so often ended in decapitation.

It differed completely from the way local magistrates liked smoothing things over and treated murder cases with extreme caution.

Tian Wujing’s own style of command placed immense emphasis on detail and control.

That was why even matters like these were forwarded into the Prince’s command tent for his review.

Hundreds of thousands of regular troops, auxiliaries, and laborers had gathered for this campaign. Taken together, the number was well over a million.

Since imperial authority did not truly extend into every village, even the prefect of a wealthy prefecture in Yan would never actually command this many people.

Tian Wujing set down the first memorial.

“Xue Chugui failed to maintain discipline. Twenty lashes.”

The Prince of Jingnan clearly felt that killing the Garrison Commander alone was not enough.

The commanding general had to be punished as well.

Tian Wujing set down the second memorial.

“A siege differs from a field charge. The military law applied to one cannot simply be applied to the other. Circulate this among all Chief Commanders and order them to consider the matter for themselves.”

Back on the snowfields, Li Fusheng’s troops had suffered precisely because of this old Zhenbei Army habit.

The gong had already sounded the retreat, yet many soldiers refused to come back because their officers were still forward, causing unnecessary additional casualties.

Officers leading from the front and soldiers protecting their officers created an army capable of fighting fearlessly.

But that was in field battle.

Siege warfare demanded far more precise timing and control.

It was an entirely different kind of war.

Some old military regulations simply no longer suited it.

As for the third memorial, Tian Wujing raised his head, looked at Zheng Fan, and tossed the paper down.

“Explain.”

It was merely a brawl among laborers.

More specifically, Yan laborers fighting Jin laborers.

By ordinary reasoning, the discipline officer’s original judgment had not been wrong.

The campaign against Chu demanded that they place the larger situation first, and the manpower and forces of Jin were themselves an indispensable part of the war effort.

Zheng Fan said, “This general believes the laborers’ rations were set by their superiors. If responsibility must be assigned, then the officers above them should bear it. Besides...”

“You deliberately showed favoritism?”

The Prince of Jingnan cut him off.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Our army is a Yan army. Those laborers came all the way from the Yan heartland, crossing mountains and rivers to participate in a war between states. They should receive preferential treatment.”

“This Prince had thought Count Pingye’s favorite doctrine was that old scholarly phrase, ‘teaching without distinction.’”

After all, Yan people were not even the majority within Count Pingye’s own forces.

Barbarians, Jin people, and now Savages made up the real majority.

“Your Highness, my own command is an exception. Looking at the larger situation, the true foundation we can rely upon in this campaign against Chu remains the people of old Yan. If this had happened within my own army, I would have used another method. But it happened in Luo Ling’s force, within Your Highness’s own Jingnan Army. It cannot be handled the same way.”

Zheng Fan continued:

“The Sixth Prince once pointed at the Barbarians and told this general: ‘Barbarians fear might, but do not cherish virtue.’ Jin people are not barbarians. But at least for now, the people of Jin are newly conquered subjects of Great Yan, and Great Yan has swept them into this war between states as well. Their resentment is inevitable.”

“So if we insist on holding the bowl perfectly level, the Jin people will not feel grateful, while the Yan people will feel betrayed. Rather than lose both sides, it is better to first hold firmly to the root.”

“True equality between Yan and Jin, treating Jin people as Yan subjects and eventually turning them into Yan people, must wait until we have broken Zhennan Pass and removed the threat from Chu. Only then will we possess the breathing room to do it.”

Finally, Zheng Fan added with great seriousness:

“No matter the time, no matter the circumstances, the people of Yan’s old lands, the common folk of Yan, and the Yan army will always be the true foundation of Great Yan.”

Tian Wujing looked at Zheng Fan very carefully.

Zheng Fan stood there calmly.

At last, Tian Wujing nodded.

“Do it that way.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Help this Prince put on his armor. Come with me. We’ll go inspect Li Fusheng’s force.”

Zheng Fan helped the Prince of Jingnan into his armor.

Soon afterward, personal guards outside brought over two Pixiu.

With only a little more than a hundred riders as escort, Zheng Fan and the Prince of Jingnan left the central military camp together.

Gongsun Zan, who was drawing maps and recording details nearby, raised his head and watched the party leave.

Still young, he could not stop himself from saying:

“The Count looks so much like the Prince.”

The same Pixiu.

The same golden armor.

And something else difficult to explain, some shared quality that made the two men look strangely similar.

Gong Lin heard him and said:

“My father says our Count is the successor personally chosen by the Prince.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Gong Lin realized he had said too much.

Perhaps Gongsun Zan simply looked too young, causing Gong Lin to lower his guard and become careless with his tongue.

Unexpectedly, Gongsun Zan nodded.

“My father has said the same thing.”

...

Compared with East Mountain Fort falling so quickly, the fighting at West Mountain Fort had become a prolonged deadlock.

If Li Fusheng could choose, he would unquestionably have preferred Zheng Fan’s situation.

The defenders charge out.

You smash them back in.

Clean and simple.

Battle over.

Anything would be better than this...

“Motherfucking bastards! They’re pissing me off!”

Li Fusheng threw down the command flag in his hand and spat twice on the ground.

The day’s attack had once again been called off.

The Yan troops began withdrawing.

The Chu atop the walls erupted in cheers.

“Report! General, the Prince and Count Pingye have arrived!”

At the news, embarrassment and irritation flashed across Li Fusheng’s face again.

It was not that he resented anyone.

The fighting had simply dragged on without producing any meaningful progress, and he genuinely felt ashamed to face Tian Wujing.

And now Zheng Fan had come too.

Look at that bastard’s record.

How was anyone supposed to compare?

Standing next to him would make Li Fusheng look like a fool.

The last time Tian Wujing had visited his command tent and directly said Zheng Fan’s side would be fine, Li Fusheng had still been unconvinced.

He vigorously rubbed both hands over his face.

Then he ordered one of the guards beside him:

“Tell all generals to assemble in the command tent for a military council. And go get that new pair of cowhide boots I told you to find last time.”

“Yes, General.”

The various commanders hurried toward the command tent without even stopping to rest after a full day of siege fighting.

Their expressions were all somewhat heavy.

When the siege had first failed to make much progress, Li Fusheng had remained relatively normal.

After East Mountain Fort fell, however, every military council ended with Li Fusheng glowering and cursing everyone present.

The generals were used to that by now.

It was hardly their first day serving under him.

The subordinate officers, seeing even the general’s own closest men cursed along with everyone else, did not feel especially singled out.

Fine.

Everyone could be cursed together.

But this time, they heard the Prince of Jingnan had come again.

And he had brought Count Pingye.

Li Fusheng was not the only one embarrassed.

The officers under him felt immense pressure as well.

Different formations in one army competed secretly with one another.

Naturally, the troops of one Chief Commander competed even harder against the troops of another.

And most importantly, what sort of soldiers did Count Pingye command?

Barbarians.

Jin people.

Supposedly even Savage slave troops.

And what were they?

They were the direct Zhenbei Army veterans who had followed Li Fusheng out of the desert, fought all the way to Shangjing in Qian, then fought again through Jin.

The Barbarians were enemies they had already defeated.

The State of Jin itself had been smashed apart by men like them.

And Savages?

What the hell were those supposed to be?

Yet Count Pingye had simply taken East Mountain Fort cleanly, while their own side could still barely see any progress.

How could anyone not feel depressed?

Inside the command tent, Tian Wujing sat in the commander’s seat that normally belonged to Li Fusheng.

Count Pingye stood beside him.

He looked as though the only thing missing was a horsetail whisk.

When the generals entered, they first saluted the Prince of Jingnan, then saluted Count Pingye, before separating into two rows.

Li Fusheng entered last.

At the same time, a commotion could be heard from outside.

Noise was strictly discouraged inside an army camp, especially around the commanding general’s tent.

The Prince of Jingnan asked:

“What is happening outside?”

Li Fusheng answered, “Reporting to Your Highness, last time this general made a wager with Your Highness. I said that if Count Pingye could take East Mountain Fort within only a few days, I’d boil my boots and eat them. They’re heating the pot outside now.”

Tian Wujing shook his head and ignored it.

The corner of Zheng Fan’s mouth twitched slightly.

He was not in a good position to say anything.

At the end of the day, it had only been a joke.

The Prince of Jingnan would never take it seriously, much less raise it in front of everyone and force Li Fusheng to honor the wager.

No matter how much Tian Wujing favored Zheng Fan, he would not become so obsessed with appearances.

Li Fusheng had brought it up himself.

And the purpose was obvious.

He was willing to make himself the butt of the joke in order to raise Zheng Fan’s reputation.

Embarrassed though he was, Li Fusheng had always treated Zheng Fan as a junior.

Among the seven great Chief Commanders who had once served under the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence, Li Fusheng was the oldest.

On the battlefield he often went mad and loved charging into the killing personally, but in other matters he was actually a man who saw things very clearly.

Now that he had raised the wager himself, the story would inevitably spread again and become another amusing anecdote attached to Count Pingye’s name.

Fortunately, cowhide boots needed quite a while to boil.

Under Tian Wujing’s direction, the military council began.

The discussion focused on nothing more than the gains and losses from the recent siege fighting.

Everyone said a great deal.

Count Pingye stood off to one side and listened without offering an opinion.

In fact, his thoughts gradually drifted back to the memorial he had reviewed earlier in the Prince’s command tent.

The Blind Man had once sat down with Zheng Fan and specifically analyzed the Prince of Jingnan’s political position.

It was obvious Tian Wujing had grown indifferent toward the concept of “family.”

Or perhaps he had consciously abandoned it.

What still supported his convictions was the “state.”

And what was the foundation on which Great Yan had been built?

The Yan people.

As his relationship with the Prince of Jingnan grew closer, Zheng Fan had not felt the old sensation of “serving a ruler is like serving a tiger” for a very long time.

That did not mean he had lowered his guard.

The memorial earlier, including Tian Wujing’s questions, had in truth contained an examination of Zheng Fan’s own political position.

After all, genuine Yan people remained a minority within Zheng Fan’s forces.

If he truly followed the phrase “teaching without distinction” all the way... then from the perspective of political correctness, all living beings would have to be treated equally.

Tian Wujing would never say something as simple as “I am Yan, therefore Yan people deserve favoritism.”

From his perspective, however, only by maintaining the political principle that Yan people remained the core could the territory he had conquered through campaigns north and south, and the empire he had carved out, continue to endure.

That was a political position.

At present, Zheng Fan had no other choice.

He could only follow the Prince of Jingnan.

While his mind wandered, he suddenly noticed Tian Wujing looking at him.

“What do you think?”

Zheng Fan had been daydreaming so deeply that he had completely forgotten what they had been discussing.

So he merely answered:

“Your Highness is right.”

The moment those words left his mouth, the expressions of many generals inside the command tent changed.

Several looked openly resentful.

Zheng Fan suddenly felt something was wrong.

Tian Wujing nodded.

“Mm. So you agree with this Prince that they truly are not up to the task.”

“...” Zheng Fan.

But that was not the most awkward part.

The most awkward part came immediately afterward.

Tian Wujing pointed toward Li Fusheng below.

“Very well. Let Count Pingye command in your place for two days.”

“!!!” Zheng Fan.

[End of Chapter 536]