Chapter 970: Iron Cavalry Tramples the Mountains and Rivers

The Prince had answered with a single “Oh.” It was not some deliberate attempt to display his composure in the face of change. There were layers of Brocade-Clad personal guards protecting the area around him, but even so, they kept a respectful distance from where he actually sat.

Panic? He truly was not panicking. Delight? That would be overstating it too.

During the brief nap just now, Zheng Fan had suddenly realized that he had finally learned how to fight a war. So the military report that followed felt no more dramatic than a top student at one of Fengxin City’s schools reaching out to accept an examination paper from his instructor.

There were no bizarre trick questions, no hidden traps. The test was perfectly ordinary. Solve it. Answer it. Finish the paper, hand it in, then go home and see what filling Mother had put into tonight’s dumplings.

The Prince was not even in a hurry to climb down from his chair. It was cold outside, his python robe was thick and warm, and a charcoal brazier roasted steadily in front of him. The comfort felt almost like stepping into an icehouse in the middle of summer... while wrapped in a quilt.

It was so comfortable that he wanted to linger a little longer. Unfortunately, given the situation, that had become a luxury.

The Chu army had begun moving through the night. No—more accurately, the movement had started during the day. By now, it had developed to the point where even darkness could no longer hide it.

Along the sprawling battle line, horns began sounding one after another. The Yan military system, sensing a clear external threat, began operating almost by instinct. Countless gazes turned toward the command tent, and many more looked beyond the tent itself, searching for the man who sat upon the commander’s seat.

Siniang arrived, her sleeves floating lightly with every step and carrying a faint trace of fragrance. When she reached Zheng Fan, he actually felt a little embarrassed. Everyone else had already begun working, while he had been caught stealing a little leisure. No matter how thick-skinned a man might be, he still had to show some reaction.

He could not keep lying there. Zheng Fan rose.

Siniang had always been the woman most perfectly in step with him. That did not refer merely to her talents or virtues. It meant she understood better than anyone how to embody the old phrase “when the husband sings, the wife follows.”

“Master, what would you like for a late-night snack?”

“Do we still have fish paste?” Zheng Fan asked.

The fish from the Wei River had tender, excellent flesh. It was particularly suitable for making fish paste.

“We do.”

“Then fish-paste soup.”

“Yes, Master.”

Zheng Fan walked ahead with Siniang at his side. The two descended from the wall and made their way to the command tent. The space outside was already packed with people, and there were plenty inside as well.

When the Prince and Princess Consort arrived, everyone dropped to their knees and saluted.

Over the past two years, the seemingly immortal Yao Zizhan had gradually abandoned whatever literary restraint he once possessed. He now constantly wrote essays and stories filled with ridicule and mockery of Yan.

In truth, this reflected something deeper. Ever since the Three-State War, after Qian’s capital was broken and Great Yan then spent the following years recovering steadily and accumulating strength, Qian had been left with little more than impotent rage. That emotion did not circulate only among ordinary Qian people; it had infected the upper levels of the state as well.

When your opponent could do nothing except distort and smear you through half-true stories, it usually meant they truly had no other methods left. Qian people had once cared about maintaining appearances. Now... they no longer cared even about that.

Still, there was one criticism in an essay by Yao Zizhan that was not entirely wrong.

He wrote that eastern Jin under Yan “does not value teaching ritual propriety, yet strictly teaches rules of form; to seek rules without ritual is to invert root and branch.”

Great Yan had opened the imperial examinations during the late Emperor’s reign, and many years had passed since then. Yet even as eastern Jin’s population continued to rise, the number of people traveling to Yingdu each year to sit the imperial examination had been decreasing year by year.

Literary education had never flourished particularly strongly in eastern Jin. Ordinary families there preferred that their children graduate from the local schools and then join the army, enter service under the Residence, or become skilled masters in the workshops.

So Yao Zizhan used that trend as evidence that eastern Jin neglected ritual teaching and had entered an age of collapsed rites and music.

As for its obsession with rules of form... in many places throughout eastern Jin, the Blind Man had created a highly rigorous system of ceremony and comportment based upon his Master’s aesthetic tastes.

Its defining characteristics were... beautiful.

Beautiful.

And beautiful.

To a certain extent, it violated the habits of traditional All Xia ritual, where every movement and every step was expected to possess some classical explanation rooted in “ritual.”

The clearest example was the time the Regent Prince had climbed a mountain, carried out the Feng and Shan sacrifices on the spot, then renamed the mountain afterward.

To a proper scholar, the whole affair was outrageous.

It was not merely ignoring ritual law.

It was inventing ritual law personally.

And even inventing it would have been one thing.

After inventing it... he could not even be bothered to explain why.

“Your Highness!”

“Your Highness.”

The assembled generals dropped to one knee, right fists pressed against their hearts.

The eastern Jin army was an army of proud soldiers and fierce generals.

Ever since it first formed at Cuiliu Fort, it had never truly lost.

Victory after victory had fed that confidence.

As a result, Zheng Fan’s role before battle had gradually changed. He no longer needed to whip his subordinates into a frenzy. Instead, he often had to pour cold water over their heads to stop them overheating. And pouring cold water on an army like this was genuinely harder than inflaming it.

Only the Prince himself could reliably do it.

“Rise.”

“Yes!”

The Prince and Princess Consort separated. Siniang went into the neighboring tent to prepare the late-night food, while Zheng Fan entered the main command tent.

Everyone already inside held the rank of Guerrilla General or higher. Once Zheng Fan entered, the generals waiting outside followed in one after another and arranged themselves along both sides.

Zheng Fan sat in the commander’s seat and glanced at Liu Dahu.

Liu Dahu nodded.

He opened one military dispatch after another and began reading aloud the reports that had arrived from different sectors since nightfall.

At a moment like this, every senior general needed a clear understanding of the overall battlefield situation.

The broad picture was simple.

According to reconnaissance, the Chu army had begun large-scale military movement.

Across the three commanderies were numerous fortresses and cities, but the actual concentrations of troops capable of maneuver and fighting in the field were divided among five great camps.

Four were main camps, each holding more than one hundred thousand men.

The fifth was an auxiliary camp, with fewer than one hundred thousand.

Now... all five camps had begun redeploying.

This was clearly no ordinary rotation of defenses.

Military movement on this scale could lead to only two possible outcomes.

The first was a full Chu withdrawal.

That was obviously impossible.

If the Chu retreated any farther, they would practically be falling back into the capital region itself.

If the Yan then pressed forward one more time, the Chu Emperor could stand atop his own capital walls and watch the military spectacle without even buying a ticket.

So there was only one other possibility.

The Chu army was preparing for a general offensive.

When Liu Dahu finished reading, Eunuch Huang, standing nearby, raised his voice.

“Generals, His Highness invites you to speak freely.”

Some words truly gained flavor only when shouted by a eunuch.

Eunuch Huang’s call carried the majesty of:

*Those with business, submit your memorials. Those without, court is dismissed.*

Several generals immediately stepped out of line.

Many more were preparing to speak.

“Your Highness, this general—”

“Your Highness, this general—”

At that moment, the curtain of the command tent was lifted.

The Princess Consort entered carrying a bowl of soup.

The heated atmosphere inside the tent went silent instantly.

Siniang walked to the commander’s seat and placed the bowl and spoon beside Zheng Fan.

Then she asked softly:

“Master, would you like vinegar?”

Zheng Fan shook his head.

“A little pepper powder.”

“I already added some.”

“Good.”

Zheng Fan picked up the spoon and drank a mouthful.

Fish-paste soup was simple to prepare.

Take fish paste made in advance, bring water to a boil, sprinkle in chopped scallions, add a few drops of sesame oil and a little pepper.

The result was wonderfully fresh.

The pale, tender pieces of fish paste floating on top were smooth and delicious as well.

While the Prince drank, Siniang raised her head and clapped her hands.

Brocade-Clad personal guards carried in a large pot of soup, followed by several stacks of clean bowls, chopsticks, and spoons.

Siniang smiled.

“Generals, have some as well. Warm yourselves.”

The generals bowed together.

“Many thanks, Princess Consort.”

If an ordinary Princess Consort were standing here—Xiong Liqing, for example—the generals would still show proper respect.

Siniang was different.

For almost ten years she had personally controlled finances and accounts.

From army pay and military supplies down to the monthly stipends and benefits of Standard Households, practically everything passed through her hands before approval.

There were many things ordinary outsiders did not understand.

But how could the men qualified to stand inside this command tent not understand them?

So toward Siniang... many of these generals felt a certain amount of fear.

Everyone began serving themselves soup.

Those with heavier tastes added extra salt.

Some even threw in chili powder.

Watching from the commander’s seat, Zheng Fan could only shake his head inwardly.

What a waste.

They ate everything as though it were hotpot, destroying the delicate freshness.

Of course... the Prince seemed to have forgotten that hotpot itself had become popular because *he* liked eating it.

With bowls in everyone’s hands, the military discussion resumed.

The mood relaxed almost immediately.

Zheng Fan mostly listened without comment.

Partway through, however, he called on Gong Wang to organize the discussion and produce a concrete plan.

There was little real disagreement.

If the Chu dared attack, then they would hit them back.

No one needed to debate that.

The disagreement lay only in method.

The dominant view was that the Yan should first rely upon the defensive line built through half a year of earthworks and fortifications to bleed the Chu offensive, then look for a chance to counterattack.

After hearing the entire discussion, Zheng Fan almost laughed.

The reason was simple.

The complete plan for this war against Chu—including the part Gou Moli understood without Zheng Fan ever stating it explicitly—had been built around an information gap.

It exploited the Chu temperament.

Their urge to throw the table over.

Their desire to show their hand all at once.

So in truth, the senior generals standing in this command tent understood the overall situation only a little better than the Chu officers opposite them.

And even in that situation... they remained this optimistic.

That confidence...

More importantly, everyone in the discussion seemed deliberately to avoid mentioning how recent troop movements had left this sector thinly defended.

Were they afraid of embarrassing him?

Perhaps this was simply another sorrow of standing at the top.

To a certain extent, his prestige inside the army had become so overwhelming that it suppressed every doubt before it could even be spoken.

Everything had two sides.

A military council was supposed to be a military council.

Yet this collection of rough soldiers and battle-hardened brutes had somehow begun developing the same little taboos and unspoken rules found in a royal court.

The only thing worth celebrating was that their final recommendation remained sensible:

Defend first.

Then look for the counterattack.

At least they had not truly lost their minds and recommended charging out immediately.

Defend and see how things developed.

If the situation went badly, they could withdraw.

Back to Shanggu Commandery.

Or all the way to Zhennan Pass.

Leave the Prince some room to maneuver.

Zheng Fan did not rebuke anyone.

Nor did he expose the problem aloud.

After Gong Wang finished summarizing the council, Zheng Fan merely nodded.

“We’ll arrange it that way for now.”

...

The Chu offensive came much fiercer than expected.

Since Yan and Chu first began clashing around eastern Jin, the forces that suffered the greatest losses in each engagement had usually been the private armies of Chu’s noble houses.

The imperial-clan Imperial Guards had taken casualties as well.

But never enough to truly wound their foundation.

Now, at last, the largest and strongest military force in Chu received its first opportunity to unleash itself fully against Yan after the men above finally made their decision.

And the Chu army taught the Yan a lesson.

They showed them what the true peak of infantry warfare looked like.

The Chu attacked in four columns.

One was commanded by Zhao Han, with Zhao Clan troops forming its core.

One was commanded by Shi Yong, leading a portion of the imperial-clan Imperial Guards.

One was commanded by Xiong Tingshan, combining imperial-clan Imperial Guards with a large Shanyue force.

And the final column—the central army—was personally commanded by Xie Yu’an.

It was the largest of all.

Every soldier in it belonged to the imperial-clan Imperial Guards.

One more force remained behind and did not participate directly in the offensive.

Clearly, it had been reserved as a final road of retreat.

Chu trebuchets and siege equipment displayed frightening effectiveness.

In Xue San’s words, the Chu had stolen lessons from eastern Jin.

Their trebuchets still lacked the accuracy of Yan machines.

But compared with years earlier, their improvement had been enormous.

Afterward, Chu infantry formations advanced together with massed archer formations.

With the Yan declining to launch an immediate counterattack, the Chu began dismantling the forts and fieldworks the Yan had spent the past half year constructing at astonishing speed.

Wave after wave.

Batch after batch.

Their efficiency was extremely high.

From the Yan perspective, the three days of defensive fighting went poorly.

Not only did the Chu break through the entire outer defensive line, they had already begun eating into the final line.

If the Yan had not begun launching active counterattacks on the third day to slow the Chu advance, even that last line might already have been broken.

The Chu attacked in four columns.

Every one was strong.

There was no supporting feint among them.

All four were genuine main attacks.

That placed enormous pressure on the Yan defenses, leaving them struggling to reinforce one emergency after another.

Yet the fundamental reason the Chu advanced so quickly was not some miraculous sudden transformation of their army.

The man responsible was none other than Regent Prince Zheng Fan himself.

Because it was the Prince who had ordered the Yan army to build so many forts and defensive works.

Such things did not simply become more useful the more one built.

Build too many, and the defending force was spread thin across all of them.

Once the Chu launched a comprehensive attack, every point came under pressure... and no point possessed enough men to hold.

If Zheng Fan had instead built two or three larger fortresses here, even if every other stockade were removed entirely, the Yan defense might actually have possessed much more freedom to maneuver and delay the enemy.

“Master is truly wise. Even defeat can look this perfectly reasonable.”

Standing beside the Prince, the Blind Man delivered an exquisitely precise piece of flattery.

Zheng Fan looked at him.

Then laughed.

“I genuinely forgot about that problem.”

The Blind Man laughed too.

No one in this world could truly calculate everything without omission.

Zheng Fan really had failed to consider this point in advance.

But it did not matter much.

As the Blind Man said, a defeat that collapsed so naturally actually suited them rather well.

This war was being fought over a gap in timing.

If the Yan accidentally became locked in a prolonged stalemate with the Chu here, then by the time news from western Chu arrived, every arrangement they had made would become meaningless.

They would not exactly lose.

The Yan had not actually suffered much.

But from a merchant’s perspective, there were many times when “losing five hundred taels” meant you had originally expected to earn one thousand and ended up earning only five hundred.

And the profit Zheng Fan was calculating here... was measured in states.

“I already ordered them not to die defending any position they cannot hold,” Zheng Fan said. “If they can withdraw, withdraw. They’ve followed that order well.”

The Blind Man nodded.

“They think Master has realized the defensive arrangement was mistaken and now intends to retreat.”

“Yes. They’re afraid I can’t afford to lose.”

“Master misunderstands them. They are actually more afraid of *you* losing than you are. In their eyes, you are practically a God of War.”

“After this, the army needs some reform. We should establish something like a true general staff. We can’t keep letting one man’s word decide everything.”

“Something like that already exists in the army.”

“Oh?”

“Because you are personally commanding, it makes no difference whether it exists or not. No one dares contradict you. And with Liang Cheng and the others absent from this front, naturally no one here dares step forward.”

Zheng Fan nodded.

Siniang approached and draped his cloak across his shoulders.

“Enough. We withdraw too. Pull back north of the Wei River and let the Chu keep chasing. They’ve already loosed the arrow. There is no taking it back.”

“This subordinate truly admires Master’s open scheme. What I manipulate is the human heart. At most, I manipulate a group of people. Master is manipulating the will of an entire state. Choose death by slowly boiling like a frog in warm water... or throw everything into one glorious gamble for a possibility. Tell a drunk man he is drunk, and he will insist he is not. A gambler whose eyes have turned red will not leave the table until every last chip is gone.”

“Flattering me again?”

“Sincerely.”

“Oh. So there was plenty of insincere flattery before.”

“This...” The Blind Man paused.

Then, with surprising honesty, he nodded.

“Who could have imagined that Master—the man who woke in that inn at Hutou City, wary and timid before an unfamiliar world—could reach this point? The seven of us have been recovering step by step, recovering what we originally were. But Master... you have been improving the entire time.”

“Enough. Stop praising me. I only just learned how to fight a war.”

“This subordinate understands. You know a little.”

“Hahahaha. You...”

Wrapped in a black, gold-edged cloak over his python robe, Zheng Fan began withdrawing under the protection of layers of Brocade-Clad personal guards.

Every Yan force south of the Wei River would now pull back.

Once the final defensive line was breached, any army remaining south of the river could easily be rolled up and surrounded.

That was exactly why the Chu themselves had abandoned the Wei River line and withdrawn earlier.

When the procession reached the pontoon bridge and prepared to cross, Liu Dahu spoke.

“Your Highness, this subordinate asks permission to dig up the remains of our fallen brothers buried here and take them with us, so the Chu cannot dishonor them.”

During the first battle after crossing the river, Tian Tian had led the Brocade-Clad personal guards against the direct cavalry under Prince Ding Xiong Tingshan.

They had repelled the Chu.

But the Brocade-Clad guards themselves had suffered considerable casualties.

Afterward, Zheng Fan ordered the fallen guards buried south of the Wei River.

He had said this land would belong to Great Yan in the future.

Now the Yan army was withdrawing to the north bank.

Once the Chu pursued them here, the marked graves would inevitably be dug open and the corpses exposed.

The Brocade-Clad personal guards formed an independent force.

Their loyalty to the Prince was absolute.

Their cohesion among themselves was equally fierce.

Clearly, Liu Dahu had raised this request because the guards below had brought it to him.

Strictly speaking, Liu Dahu now served as Deputy Commandant of the Brocade-Clad personal guards.

After speaking, Liu Dahu dropped to his knees.

Then... every Brocade-Clad guard protecting the Prince’s withdrawal knelt as well.

Together, they said:

“We beg Your Highness to grant permission!”

This was no palace coup.

No military remonstrance.

They were only asking to take the bones of their dead comrades with them.

They did not want men who had lived and fought beside them every day to suffer humiliation after death.

The Prince swept his gaze over the guards kneeling around him.

Then he said:

“This Prince refuses.”

A trace of astonishment appeared among the kneeling guards.

But no one made a disturbance.

Once the Prince had made his decision, every one of them rose again.

Obedience to princely command was instinct.

Zheng Fan pointed toward the cluster of graves standing beside the riverbank.

“I believe the brothers sleeping there will be delighted when the Chu come and ‘invite’ them back out. Because very soon... they will witness with their own eyes how the iron cavalry of our army tramples the Chu on both banks of this Wei River... until blood flows like a river!”

[End of Chapter 970]