Chapter Ninety-Two: The Army's Destination

The Marquis of Wu'an saw that Dongting Lake was shrouded in a dense fog, and it was growing thicker by the moment. Within the mist, a person could not be seen beyond a single yard, and even the compasses had gone dead. If the army marched into it, the enemy would be hidden while they themselves remained exposed; for an army on the move, that was a grave taboo. If they pressed on into the fog, the whole host might be wiped out.

With no other choice, the Marquis of Wu'an devised a new strategy. He abandoned the fleet’s strongest vessels, severing the arm to save the body, and took the opportunity to retake the territories held by the rebel kings. It was also because the Dragon Lord of Dongting Lake had summoned all the rebel kings to the water palace in order to choose a son-in-law.

With the rebel domains suddenly deprived of their backbone and their inner ranks left leaderless, it was the perfect moment to strike, so that very night they abandoned the ships and carried out a strategy of cutting the firewood from beneath the cauldron.

Even though every major power had made arrangements, there would surely be internal conflicts. Any rebel king whose household knew no discord would already be dead. No ruler tolerated a subordinate whose power stood alone or whose merit overshadowed his sovereign for long. Among the rebel kings, none would let such a man live another day.

The way of emperors lies in balance; only balance endures.

The Marquis of Wu'an and his officers understood as well that dealing with a power that had a leader was entirely different from dealing with one that did not.

As expected, the Marquis of Wu'an led the reserve wing of the central army and had gone only a few dozen li when they encountered one such force. As soon as the great army arrived, the rebel power that had once been calm was thrown into utter panic.

Though they had made preparations, their forces numbered barely a thousand. The moment they saw the imperial army, they fell into disorder. Moreover, the Marquis of Wu'an had no intention of destroying them outright; he merely ordered men to shout a demand into the city.

People are always afraid of something. Quietly, the city gates were opened. Once the army entered, the outcome was decided. Anyone who tried to resist was cut down at once.

The Marquis of Wu'an left only a hundred men to govern the county seat and continue stabilizing public order, asking for nothing more than peace and steadiness.

Then he broke up and reorganized the nearly thousand rebel troops, gave them several days’ rations, and sent them back on the road.

Meanwhile, the vanguard and the right wing, under the command of General Yang Ben, had also retaken another county. But the soldiers bore the marks of battle upon their bodies, and the killing intent forged on the battlefield already hung over the entire sky.

It seemed they had only just fought a war. Yang Ben was young and fiery, brave in battle, and though he handled affairs with steadiness, he still lacked enough experience.

It was only because they had to kill a few men of high rank and standing that fierce resistance arose. Every man has brothers who would die for him; if only a few dozen answer the call, those who do not know the truth may be swept along in the tide. Once the scene descends into chaos, it is hard to control.

This battle needed no guessing at the outcome. It was certainly a victory. These several thousand soldiers of the Divine Wind Battalion were elite troops in the Great Liang Dynasty, personally selected by the Marquis of Wu'an from the entire battalion, and they were hardly inferior to the emperor’s Celestial Mechanism Battalion.

In war, there are always deaths. Several hundred rebels were all slain, but more than ten soldiers of the Divine Wind Battalion also fell. Though that was nothing compared with several thousand, it was different when the loss fell upon one’s own men.

Behind every soldier stood a family. Because of a single mistake, these unnecessary casualties had occurred. At that moment, Yang Ben felt remorse. He also recalled the highest realm of the art of war: to subdue the enemy without fighting.

While reorganizing his men and preventing the ranks from settling down too quickly, Yang Ben reflected on how to improve in the future. With heavy thoughts, he led his troops onward toward the next objective.

...

Wang Yuanfeng traveled southward the entire way, covering a thousand li a day. After three or four hours he had reached Dongting Lake, where he finally saw the abandoned ships at the place where the army had been blocked.

The ships were not only battered and ruined, but men were also stationed on them. After a careful look, Wang Yuanfeng realized they were neither from the Divine Wind Battalion nor from Dongting Lake’s forces. They were, in fact, a band of refugees who had occupied the ships.

In truth, once the Dragon Lord of Dongting Lake lost sight of the Marquis of Wu'an, he had already sent men to search for the army’s trail. But for creatures that had taken form from the waters, vessels that could dive might still have some use. Ships that could only float on the surface, however, would merely force shrimp soldiers and crab generals to cripple themselves in vain.

Those water demons who did not understand military routes saw that the imperial army was gone and followed the tracks left by its withdrawal. Though the army had split into two columns, there were still several thousand men. The shrimp soldiers and crab generals pursued along the path the army had taken, but because they were too few, they dared not draw near and could only trail far behind.

Part of the force was sent back to report to the Dragon Lord of Dongting Lake, while the rest continued to keep watch.

The army led by the Marquis of Wu'an continued its work of cutting the firewood from beneath the cauldron. By this point they had already retaken three strongholds and were preparing to take the fourth.

Inside the tent, the Marquis of Wu'an and several generals were arguing fiercely over a map. The first three places had been seized with lightning speed, in accordance with the principle that speed is of the essence in war. But this fourth place had become guarded. Although the mountain stronghold was not large, its defenses had tightened, with barriers set up all around.

Not everyone agreed with such a show of force. What mattered was who held the military authority. Yet even if internal discord ran deep, they still had to present such a posture to the world.

At this moment, two voices had formed within the army. One faction was radical and advocated a direct assault, arguing that speed and overwhelming numbers would carry the day. The other was more conciliatory, intending to persuade them to surrender and then plant agents to sway those unwilling to provoke conflict. When the time came, they would strike from within and without and seize the place.

“Report—”

Just as they were discussing the crucial point, a loud cry suddenly came from outside.

The Marquis of Wu'an looked up. Outside the tent stood a young officer carrying a small signal pennant on his back. He was the ancient equivalent of a scout—a soldier from the Touring Relay Battalion. The patch-like device on his back was meant to be pressed to the ground to sense the faintest stirrings of wind and movement through vibration.

He called to the outside, “Enter.”

“Yes.”

The scout officer entered the tent, saluted in military fashion, and said, “Third Commandant of the Touring Relay Battalion pays respects to the Commander-in-Chief. Greetings to all the generals.”

“Has anything happened nearby?” the Marquis of Wu'an asked with a nod, thinking that since he had sent them to scout the surrounding area, there must be some result.

“Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief,” the commandant said, resting a hand on his sword, “we have discovered shrimp soldiers and crab generals in the rear of our army. Their number has grown from several dozen at first to several hundred now, and it is still increasing.”

The other generals exchanged varying expressions. Some looked eager for action, some fell into thought, and some let their eyes flick rapidly as if they had already thought up some stratagem. Yet none of them spoke. Unless the main commander opened his mouth first, they would not speak. That was the rule of the army. Thus, outside the time set aside for discussion, they acted strictly according to discipline.

The Marquis of Wu'an thought for a while, his face unreadable; no one knew what he was thinking. After a long pause, he said to the commandant, “Continue your investigation. Report the situation at any time.”

“Yes.” The commandant saluted, stepped back three paces, turned, and left the tent.

At once, everyone looked to the Marquis of Wu'an, waiting for him to speak.

After pondering for a while longer, the Marquis of Wu'an finally said, “What are your views on this matter?”