Chapter 839: Mighty Jingnan Army!

Sanshan Pass lived up to its name: three mountains stacked one behind another, all tied together by a single pass.

Even Snow Sea Pass, universally regarded as possessing the greatest natural defensive advantage beneath Heaven, was in truth not merely one wall. Its defensive system incorporated a whole chain of forts and military camps built through the surrounding Tianduan Mountains.

In this world, any military city or pass built by human hands could rarely achieve the imagined state of “one man holds the pass, ten thousand cannot break through.”

Of course, an enemy could choose to bypass it.

But then a sharp blade would remain beside his grain route and line of retreat, ready at any moment to stab backward into him and force him into passivity from the very beginning.

That was the foundation of Sanshan Pass’s defensive value. It stood at the most dangerous terrain between Zhao and Liang, easy to defend and difficult to attack.

The pass itself was one part of the defense. On the hills and slopes outside it stood additional military camps. Any attacker had to assault uphill while those camps and the main pass supported one another like horns.

To break the pass, the camps on those hills had to be uprooted first.

The sun had only just risen.

Count Yishan Chen Yang held a large bowl filled with rice, meat, pickled vegetables, and sauce. Around him sat a great crowd of soldiers.

Most were strong and powerfully built. Their armor and weapons had been piled nearby while everyone ate breakfast.

In ordinary times, soldiers could make do with rougher food. In wartime, there could be no carelessness. Whatever conditions could be provided had to be provided.

Young masters and young ladies who had never spent long years doing hard physical labor would never understand what a man needed to eat in a day simply to keep his strength and energy until nightfall. Without oil or salt in the belly, it was like lacking ballast in a boat. Even walking could become unsteady.

And killing was far more exhausting than ordinary hard labor, because it came with tremendous mental strain.

Breakfast had to be filling.

The battlefield changed constantly. Heaven knew when the next meal might come, or whether there would even be a next meal.

Other soldiers moved among them ladling food and bringing water. Everyone was a comrade and everyone was a rough soldier, but they served these men willingly.

The soldiers who broke formations were the spearpoint of an army. They enjoyed the best treatment and the highest respect.

There was one small detail. They were not sitting flat on the ground while eating. Most squatted with one heel raised, their weapons placed at the left hand. Those on the outside naturally formed an oval facing outward.

Even while eating, they maintained vigilance.

In the red tents, these same rough soldiers might fail to calculate a bill correctly. Pour a few cups of horse piss into them and they could be cheated like fools without noticing anything strange.

But once they entered a battlefield and that atmosphere descended, every man naturally slipped into instinct.

That was the aura of elite troops.

The principle was much the same as Prince Pingxi at home. When eating or sleeping, he always demanded some sense of ceremony or he could neither eat nor rest comfortably. Yet the moment he reached a battlefield, every such habit vanished.

Chen Yang’s adopted son Chen Xiong sat beside him, eating from a bowl of his own.

“Father, this child heard that when Prince Pingxi’s eastern Jin troops go to war, breakfast, lunch, and dinner all follow strict standards. Everyone eats the same thing.”

Because logistics were currently being sustained through requisitioning supplies from Zhao territory, the Yan army did not lack food for the moment. Even so, they ate whatever happened to be available.

Prince Pingxi Residence had begun constructing a strict and careful logistical system all the way back in Shengle City.

Today, when a great army marched out, supply requirements followed precise regulations. Frontline camps were not simply told to improvise with whatever they could find. Workshops, shops, and industries under the Residence prepared military rations into semi-finished form before sending them forward.

First, this greatly increased the efficiency of supply and reduced waste.

Second, it improved the quality of the soldiers’ provisions as much as possible.

And when this kind of “standardized” process extended from food into clothing, housing, and movement, it naturally fostered a demand for order and discipline that could in turn reinforce military law.

But achieving this was difficult.

You needed an entire logistical system of your own, and you needed to shoulder both production and consumption yourself.

Logistics had always been the court’s greatest weapon for restraining military strongmen at the front.

At present, only two forces in all Great Yan could truly reach this level.

One was Prince Zhenbei Residence. Even though the Zhenbei Army had been divided, the Residence’s foundations still remained, and the influence the Li Clan had built as virtual emperors of Beifeng Commandery had not yet completely disappeared.

The other was the newly risen Prince Pingxi Residence.

Even the old Prince Jingnan Residence had never reached this level, because Prince Jingnan had never truly enclosed and developed a personal territory of his own. Yet even the Blind Man would never naively believe Tian Wujing lacked the ability. The shadow cast by his “slight understanding” ran far too deep.

The only conclusion was that Tian Wujing had never, from beginning to end, intended to begin preparing a rebellion.

The shock produced by the Battle of Fan City had long since surpassed the battle itself.

To ordinary Yan people, their Prince had simply won another magnificent victory.

To the Great Yan court, however, it meant Prince Pingxi Residence’s foundations in eastern Jin had become solid enough to wage a war “independently.”

It was no exaggeration to say that when Great Xia collapsed and countless states fought one another, many of the so-called “states” of that era had possessed less of a legitimate state structure than Prince Pingxi Residence did now.

Economy.

Livelihood.

Military.

Culture.

All held in one hand.

Many rulers who had vanished into the long river of history had never achieved this much.

“When this battle is over, I’ll shoulder what happened before. You can go to eastern Jin. Prince Pingxi Residence needs people right now. There will be a place for you.”

“Father, this child did not mean that.”

“But I do.” Chen Yang looked at Chen Xiong seriously. “Rather than be forced to choose a side later, better to sit in the pit early.”

Chen Xiong still wanted to say something.

Chen Yang raised a hand and stopped him.

He accepted a wet cloth from one of his personal guards and wiped his face and hands.

Then he said:

“Li Fusheng is dead.”

Chen Xiong fell silent.

Ever since his adoptive father received the news that Count Huwei had died at the front, Chen Yang had often fallen into this kind of sudden self-talk.

In truth, for Chen Yang, reaching the rank of Count was already close to the end of the road.

Not every great general possessed Prince Pingxi’s fortune and ability, rising from a military Marquis to a Prince.

That had already moved beyond the simple accumulation of military merit.

First, you needed to have joined the Sixth Master’s faction early enough.

Then you needed a relationship with the Emperor so deep that mutual trust reached an extraordinary level.

So professionally, Chen Yang had almost reached his ceiling. If Great Yan eventually launched a true war to unify all Xia, perhaps he might still have a chance to strive for a Marquisate.

As for family, he had little to regret.

Perhaps the only emptiness... came from Prince Jingnan’s departure.

Once Prince Jingnan left, the soul of the Jingnan Army had, in truth, been pulled away with him.

Struggling.

Resisting.

Trying to preserve the glory they once possessed.

These were instincts of the group.

But Chen Yang himself had long since accepted the final outcome.

Yes, he had confronted the imperial commissioner at Sushan Camp.

Had this happened in the old days, faced with such humiliation, he would have rebelled outright. The court itself would never have dared use such methods directly against a great regional military commander.

Claiming illness and remaining at home was already a response inside the rules.

His mouth rejected the rules while his body obeyed them.

No matter how loudly he complained, he had already become part of the system.

Originally, his life should have ended peacefully enough.

Command troops for a few more years.

Train another couple of batches of recruits.

Look after his sons and nephews.

Then find an excuse to retire, hold grandchildren in his arms, and enjoy old age.

Wouldn’t that have been good?

If the court summoned him again later, at worst he would wrap his corpse in horsehide on the battlefield. At least that would give his life a proper beginning and end.

But Li Fusheng’s death meant the rest of Chen Yang’s life would now carry this guilt forever.

He raised his head and looked toward the slope ahead.

“Later, if Father falls, let Father lie there by himself for a while.”

“Father...”

“Oh, enough, enough. What kind of damned talk is that?”

The soldiers around Chen Yang immediately turned cold eyes toward the dwarf.

Sushan Camp formed the core of the Vanguard Army, meaning Chen Yang’s own troops. Over these past days, this dwarf had spent no small amount of time riding atop their Count’s head and stirring up trouble.

The humiliation.

The contempt.

Compared with the imperial commissioner from before, it was even worse.

And because this dwarf was even more shameless, there was somehow nothing they could do about him.

On the day Prince Pingxi sent an order from the rear, this dwarf had been the one to relay it.

He had cleared his throat and then, “reading exactly from the original” and “preserving the authentic flavor,” opened with:

“Old Dog Chen, receive the order!”

Every general inside the command tent had stared in shock.

They had even forgotten to become angry.

But Count Yishan burst out laughing.

He stood.

Kneeled.

Received the order.

And shouted:

“This old dog is here!”

By now, the grudge between both sides had been built layer upon layer.

From ancient times until now, the interests of an army supervisor and a commanding general broadly pointed in the same direction. Yet a supervisor like this dwarf, hated by the entire army from top to bottom, was probably unique beneath Heaven.

Xue San ignored the cold gazes around him.

He reached out and patted Fan Li on the calf.

“A’Li, later you’d better charge in front of our Count Yishan. He’s planning to slack off and run away.”

Fan Li did not cooperate with Supervisor Xue’s performance.

He bent down instead.

“Any food left?”

...

Atop the walls of Sanshan Pass, the newly proclaimed Ruler of Zhao, Guan Shantong, sat in the lowest seat.

The chief seat belonged to a graceful young nobleman.

Beside that young man sat Old Fifth Han, one of Great Qian’s Commanders.

“Gentlemen, rest assured,” Guan Shantong declared, beating his chest. “The mountain roads are rugged. The terrain favors us. Yan cavalry cannot deploy here, and this King has always paid great attention to the use of bows and crossbows among my soldiers. Three hills, three military camps. The Yan will not bite through them in a month!”

Old Fifth Han smiled.

“Your Majesty, a month is unnecessary. Hold them for ten days and that will be enough.”

The Yan would have to attack uphill and uproot each military camp one by one. Zhao troops from Sanshan Pass could also sortie to contest the ground repeatedly.

Three military camps would be enough to make the Yan choke.

Xie Yu’an said:

“Six or seven days will be enough.”

Guan Shantong immediately said:

“Young Master, this King...”

“No hurry. No hurry. Six or seven days will be enough to grind away the Yan army’s edge. At that point, Commander Han’s troops can strike. If we can win another battle here at Sanshan Pass, then this board comes alive. Once we defeat the Yan army before us, we can ride the momentum west, retake Zhao’s capital, and formally seat Your Majesty upon the throne.”

Old Fifth Han and Xie Yu’an exchanged a glance.

There were some things neither man said aloud.

After the great victory in Liang, both Chu and Qian had sent more grain, money, and troops into Liang.

But not very much.

Chu still had to guard against attacks from Zhennan Pass and from Prince Pingxi Residence’s forces around Fan City.

Qian’s Three Frontiers could no longer afford to pull away further elites either.

Qian possessed plenty of troops elsewhere.

But across all Great Qian, only the armies at the Three Frontiers could truly be trusted.

Send ordinary garrison troops from other regions and they could, at best, serve as auxiliaries. Put them onto a real field battle and you still had to worry they would collapse first and drag the rest of the army down with them.

Therefore, within the Qian-Chu coalition, Meng Gong and Xie Zhuyang had already reached a tacit understanding.

The main direction was withdrawal.

But while preparing that withdrawal, there was no harm in making one or two small local attempts.

The bait was simply too large.

No matter how one looked at it, Prince Pingxi’s deployment this time truly seemed excessively reckless.

Most importantly, he had somehow taken Zhao’s capital as well.

A man who tried to swallow too much often ended up unable to chew it, and a broad front was easy to break at a single point.

Besides, Zhao troops would be the ones used for the test.

This newly proclaimed Ruler of Zhao, “supported” together by Qian and Chu, would simply make one final contribution of value.

Naturally, none of that could be said to the new Ruler of Zhao himself.

At that moment... signal flags began moving.

Guan Shantong immediately said:

“The Yan army has begun its first assault.”

...

“Brothers.”

Chen Yang stood before more than two thousand armored soldiers.

This was the Assault Battalion.

Because of the terrain, only this many soldiers could be committed at one time. Even if you possessed overwhelming numerical superiority, there was nowhere to deploy it.

Only once the vanguard broke open the road could follow-up troops gain room to advance.

Cold-weapon combat was brutally cruel.

A speech before the battle was necessary.

The coming uphill assault would inevitably require blood and corpses to pave the road forward. The soldiers needed fire burning in their minds.

“Count Huwei is dead. Everyone says it happened because Sushan Camp refused discipline, and that our behavior caused his death. Whether we like it or not, the guilt of killing our own comrades has already been strapped onto our heads. Every one of you was trained by this Chen Yang. Every one of you followed Prince Jingnan north and south. You are the direct line within the direct line of my Jingnan Army. How can sons of Yan endure this humiliation? Let the world slander me however it wishes. Today, this Count will lead all of you and wash away that shame with military merit! Before this Count falls, none of you may retreat. After this Count falls, none of you may retreat either! Today in Great Yan, when people speak of the strongest army of the age, they are already beginning to name Prince Pingxi’s eastern Jin army. It is time to remind the world that back then, the Jingnan Army was the foremost army of Great Yan! Men, follow this Count! Kill!”

The pre-battle speech was short.

Then Chen Yang moved first, bow in hand and saber on his back.

The armored soldiers followed.

Fan Li had eaten his fill and had fixed his eyes on Chen Yang early.

Standing beside the Count, he looked like an iron tower.

His armor itself resembled one of those enormous iron cans from medieval Europe.

Its defensive power was astonishing.

The armored soldiers around them also wore heavy armor and carried powerful bows. Very few held shields.

The armor was heavy enough already. Drawing a heavy bow left no way to handle a shield at the same time.

More importantly, in this kind of uphill assault, what they needed was not passive defense but fearless forward pressure.

The defenders were often the side that most hoped both armies would waste time.

Under this degree of heavy protection, a shield did not make much difference anyway. Heavy armor could sometimes allow a man to be shot full of arrows like a hedgehog and still swing his saber.

The cost was enormous, maintenance was expensive, and most importantly, a soldier’s strength could not endure such burdens indefinitely.

Yet in Great Yan’s years of campaigning north and south, its sweeping victories had fundamentally rested upon fierce and aggressive sons of Yan like these.

These veteran soldiers and hardened generals had all fought countless battles. Most possessed real martial ability, and more importantly, they understood how to preserve themselves and ration their strength on a battlefield.

They were the true essence of the Yan army.

Something like this had to be fed through victory after victory.

Training alone could never create it.

And why did those battles need to be victories?

Because if you lost all the time, men tended to lose...

The assault began.

Chen Yang and Fan Li moved at the front.

The Jingnan Army soldiers behind and around them spread out rather than forming one dense mass.

Charging uphill in one giant swarm would have been idiotic.

Everyone bent at the waist and advanced while seeking whatever cover the ground offered.

Soon, arrows began falling from the military camp above.

Some men were unlucky and took hits.

If an arrow happened to pierce one of the weak points in the armor and the soldier could still move, he continued.

If he could not, he found a place and lay down.

The Yan army did not shoot back.

They simply kept advancing in silence beneath the Zhao arrows.

Men fell one after another.

Yet the rhythm of the advance never weakened.

There was no heaviness on Chen Yang’s face.

If anything, he looked more relaxed with every step.

At that moment, all the depression and foul temper accumulated inside him finally seemed to find somewhere to escape.

Imperial commissioner.

Old dog.

Slander.

Let all of it go to hell.

Li Fusheng... your father is here to avenge you!

The Yan army’s silence placed enormous pressure upon the Zhao soldiers above.

It was as though they were watching a host of deathless ghosts climb toward them.

They were soldiers too.

They understood perfectly well what kind of elite troops could advance into arrows with this degree of calm.

Finally, after paying a certain price in silence, the distance shrank to a range Chen Yang could accept.

He drew his bow and nocked a whistling arrow.

The arrow flew.

At the same time, he roared:

“Up there... it’s only Zhao troops!”

To the Yan soldiers around him, the meaning of that roar could basically be translated as:

“Up there... it’s only a herd of pigs!”

Chen Yang roared again:

“Great Yan, ten thousand victories!”

“Ten thousand victories!”

All the endurance and suppression from before, all the cold indifference as they watched comrades get hit and fall, erupted in a single instant.

Every Yan soldier straightened, drew his bow, and began firing.

They ignored the arrows raining from above and focused only on driving their own shafts into the enemy.

Li Fusheng had once told Zheng Fan with tremendous arrogance:

War comes down to strong soldiers and strong horses!

My soldiers shoot better than yours.

My soldiers possess higher morale than yours.

My soldiers have more experience than yours.

I crush you in every way.

What can you possibly use to stop me?

Once the brutal exchange of arrows began, the Zhao troops holding the terrain advantage and waiting in prepared positions immediately fell into confusion.

The elites of the Jingnan Army, even without horses beneath them and even wearing heavy armor, still moved with astonishing speed.

Worse yet, their accuracy while moving was terrifying.

The moment disorder fully spread through the Zhao ranks above, Fan Li charged forward alone and smashed aside a mass of antler-like obstacles.

Chen Yang led the armored soldiers after him.

They threw down their bows, drew their sabers, and surged into the camp.

Even the troops waiting below seemed not to have expected the Vanguard Army’s attack to proceed this smoothly.

A single charge had already smashed all the way to the top.

Below, Chen Yang’s nephew Chen Yuan immediately gave the order:

“Commit the follow-up troops!”

...

Half an hour earlier, Guan Shantong had told Xie Yu’an and Old Fifth Han that he could guarantee Sanshan Pass would hold for an entire month.

And not long ago, judging from the signal flags, he had announced that the Yan army’s first assault had begun.

Now... new flags appeared.

Different states used different signal systems. Even armies within the same state often possessed their own flag habits.

So Old Fifth Han stood and walked forward several steps.

“The Yan have finished their first assault, yes?”

Guan Shantong had already read the signal.

He stood frozen.

Numb.

Disbelieving.

He could only nod.

Old Fifth Han failed to notice the new Ruler of Zhao’s expression behind him.

Instead, he laughed.

“The Yan got beaten back that quickly? Tsk-tsk. Did they get knocked down the moment they finished climbing up?”

Xie Yu’an, who had remained seated, studied Guan Shantong’s face.

Then he said to Old Fifth Han:

“The Yan took the first hill... in their first assault.”

Old Fifth Han turned around blankly.

He stared at Guan Shantong in complete disbelief.

“Motherfucker... they walked up there... and took it?”

[End of Chapter 839]