Volume Three: Heroes Fall Silent as the World Grows Old - 15 - Shenyang III

Emperor Gao of Han failed repeatedly against the Overlord of Western Chu, yet finally achieved victory at Gaixia; Emperor Zhaolie fled north and south, only to eventually divide the world into three. As the saying goes, where there is a will, there is a way; if one smashes the cooking pots and sinks the boats, the hundred-and-two passes of Qin will eventually belong to Chu. Heaven does not fail those who are determined; if one sleeps on brushwood and tastes gall, three thousand Yue troops can swallow Wu.

With two hundred thousand men, isolated by mountain ranges and far from the capital of Bianliang, Guan Duo stood alone without reinforcements. For years, he maneuvered through the Mongolian-controlled borderlands and Liaodong, not only remaining undefeated but also securing major victories. He even razed the very birthplace of the Mongol Yuan dynasty to the ground; wherever his military might reached, the Mongol Emperor dared not venture north again. In terms of charisma and stature, he was truly a hero of his age.

How could the swallows and sparrows understand the ambitions of the swan? In times of peace, it might not matter, but in chaotic times, talent emerges in abundance. Looking at the current warlords: Xu Shouhui was originally a cloth peddler; Zhang Shicheng and Fang Guozhen were salt smugglers; the Little Ming King inherited the White Lotus Society—to put it bluntly, a cult leader; Liu Futong was merely a wealthy man. None came from prestigious families.

A decade ago, who would have spared them a glance? They were mere commoners, no different from ants. Like bedbugs, they could be crushed between two fingers with ease. And now? Every one of them controls a territory, proclaiming themselves kings and emperors, looking down upon the world.

Times create heroes, and heroes create the times. Compared to these men, in what way was Guan Duo inferior? He was well-versed in literature, understood astronomy and geography, and was a master of military strategy and tactics. In terms of foresight and insight, he believed he far surpassed them all; it was no wonder he harbored such grand ambitions.

He gazed at the blue sky, his hands behind his back, filled with heroic pride. The world had been in chaos for too long; it was time for a hero to rise, to brandish his whip, and to purify the realm. He would return peace to the people and ensure the glory of the Qin and Han dynasties was remembered for eternity. Are kings and nobles born with high status?

"Are kings and nobles born with high status?"

In the Pan estate north of the city, Pan Ren posed this question to Pan Cheng. War in southern Liaoning was imminent, and though Pan Ren was not brilliant, he could see that this would be the start of breaking the stalemate in Liaodong. If they won, the Red Turbans would seize the initiative; if they failed, the consequences would be unimaginable.

He said, "If we lose in southern Liaoning, Liaoyang will be hard to hold. Once Liaoyang is lost, our Guangning Prefecture will likely be unable to stand alone. Brother, what are your plans?"

"He is the main force attacking southern Liaoning; we can just sit back and watch. If he loses, it won't hurt our foundations. If Liaoyang and Guangning cannot be held, then we won't hold them. At worst, we retreat into Goryeo. By then, Old Guan will have lost his men and generals. Hmph, it won't be the East Wind prevailing over the West Wind, but the West Wind over the East."

"Retreat to Goryeo? What about Little Deng?"

"What is he worth! Does he really think he’s the King of Guanbei just because he has a few tens of thousands of rabble? Besides, Little Pan Mei’s provocation has been very effective. Didn’t he use the opportunity to demand many things from Old Guan? Given Old Guan’s temperament, even if he says nothing now, he’ll eventually give Little Deng a taste of his own medicine."

Pan Cheng did not take it to heart. He picked up a bronze mirror from the table and gazed at his handsome face, thinking, "I’ve been fighting for so many years, yet I’m getting worse at it. The Tartar officials are incompetent, but Chahan and Boluo are truly formidable. Wasn't Old Guan defeated by them too? Once Shandong is pacified, they will likely move north. If southern Liaoning can't be won, I'll leave this place of trouble early and go to Goryeo to be a king—that would be carefree enough."

Pan Ren said, "That said, Old Guan is calculating. He wouldn't act rashly if he weren't certain. Maybe we really can win the battle of southern Liaoning. Brother, should we send more troops? Ten thousand men won't be enough to seize any territory."

"As long as Old Liu is alive, Old Guan won't dare to offend us." Pan Cheng stood up and rubbed his belly. From years of living in the wild, his digestion was poor, and he felt unwell whenever he ate too much.

The maid at his side was clever; she knelt, loosened his clothes, and began to rub his stomach gently. Pan Cheng sighed in comfort and collapsed back onto the mat, reclining with his chest bare. He said, "Just watch. If southern Liaoning is won, we won't have to send a single soldier, and he will still have to give us whatever is due."

Pan Ren held a different view: "Brother, you are perhaps too optimistic..." He remained uneasy, adding, "Old Guan sending A-Mei to Dongmou Mountain was clearly a show of force against us. He hasn't even crossed the river yet, and he's already planning to tear down the bridge. If southern Liaoning is won, I don’t think it will be simple."

Pan Cheng frowned, pondered for a moment, and said, "A show of force, yes, but tearing down the bridge? Not necessarily. He plays the first move; isn't he afraid of our retaliation? With his fifty or sixty thousand men, no matter how good they are at fighting, without us, they’ll be wiped out. Old Liu alone is someone he couldn't suppress."

Pan Ren conceded, "Brother is right. With Nahachu, Shuosijian, and the Liaoxi forces, he couldn't possibly withstand those hundred thousand troops on his own."

"Whoever has the soldiers is the king! As long as we have soldiers, we are the masters." Pan Cheng enjoyed the maid's ministrations, tapping the mat while his eyes were closed. "Nahachu, Shuosijian..." Unsure of what he was thinking, his tapping slowed. He suddenly opened his eyes. "What did you just say?"

"I said that on his own, he cannot withstand the hundred thousand troops of Nahachu, Shuosijian, and Liaoxi."

For days, Guan Duo had been sending messengers eastward to contact Shenyang; he had suddenly decided to attack southern Liaoning; he had ordered Pan Mei to launch a surprise attack on Dongmou Mountain; Dongmou Mountain was only twenty miles from Shenyang; Shenyang had retreated without a fight, handing over this strategic stronghold.

Pan Cheng had led troops for years. He lacked grand ambitions, but that did not mean he was stupid. Awakened by Pan Ren’s words, the more he thought about it, the more wrong it felt. He muttered, "Too strange, too strange."

"Brother?"

A few days ago, during a late-night talk with Pan Mei, he had said something that now surfaced in his mind. He had said, "You and I must be cautious and vigilant; we must prevent him from selling us out."

Thinking of this, Pan Cheng rolled over and stood up. The maid was caught off guard, and her long nails scratched his abdomen. Pan Cheng felt the pain and flew into a rage. He grabbed her hair, kicked her away, and ordered his personal guards outside, "Drag her out and behead her!"

The servants in the hall trembled. The maid turned pale with terror, crawling on the floor, weeping and begging for mercy. Pan Cheng and Pan Ren didn't even look at her. Two guards entered, dragged her out like wolves, and a moment later, a bloody head was presented on a wooden tray. The maid’s eyes were still wide open in death.

Pan Cheng waved his hand and said nonchalantly, "Throw it away. Feed it to the dogs."

Pan Ren asked impatiently, "Brother, you said it was strange. What exactly is strange?"

"Dongmou Mountain was taken too easily. Nahachu has tens of thousands of troops; is he such an easy target? First, Old Guan communicates with Shenyang, then comes the victory at Dongmou Mountain..."

"Brother, are you saying there is a trap?" Pan Ren was confused. "But Brother, you said earlier that he would never dare to surrender. Furthermore, if he were to surrender, why would Nahachu allow him to attack southern Liaoning?"

"Fool! What if he uses us as a bargaining chip? What if he uses A-Mei as his proof of loyalty?"

Pan Ren gasped, unable to believe it. "Could it be? Old Guan doesn't have the guts. Perhaps, as you said before, he is only communicating with Shenyang as a feint, leaving himself a retreat for the battle of Liaoning to keep Liaoyang safe? After listening to your analysis a few days ago, I thought about it carefully. You’re right; even if he wanted to surrender, the brothers in the army wouldn't agree."

Pan Cheng was only one step away from the truth, wavering between certainty and denial. Finally, he made an agonizing decision. "In any case, it is better to be prepared. You must not stay in Liaoyang. Leave today and return to Luyang immediately; tell Pan Xin to hold Guangning tightly." He paced twice and changed his mind. "No, I must leave too. We will both leave tonight."

If both of them left, "What about Pan Mei?"

"If I guessed wrong, he will be fine. If I guessed right, is he even of the Pan bloodline?" The implication was clear: he was an adopted son, and if he died, he died.

Pan Ren felt a bit of regret. "A-Mei has some ability. If nothing else, his ability to discover that Guan Duo was communicating with Shenyang is truly remarkable."

Pan Cheng didn't care. His mind was entirely on Guan Duo. He said viciously, "Damn it, communicating with Shenyang! Keep a few brothers there; we must find out what is really going on!"

News of Pan Cheng and Pan Ren leaving the city under the cover of darkness soon reached Deng She. Thanks to Hu Zhong and Liu Daqing, his intelligence was much better than when he had first entered Liaoyang.

He had been busy all day negotiating with the logistics department for supplies. The man in charge was Li Dunru, who was surprisingly pedantic, demanding that the figures Deng She submitted be precise to the last peck. Ordinarily, this was a reasonable request, but for an army of tens of thousands, including men, horses, and transport consumption, it was a task for gods, not men.

Unable to do otherwise, Deng She gathered all his staff and reported three times before the figures were finally accepted. Since entering Goryeo, he had never been subjected to such obstruction. Bi Qianniu was indignant, grumbling and defending Deng She, complaining, "He was scolded twice—once because of Li Aguan, once because of Pan Mei’s meddling. What does that have to do with the General? Why make things difficult for him?"

Deng She knew some of the inside story from Hu Zhong, so he wasn't angry. He smiled and said, "Master Li is not a bad man; his colleagues say he is kind and honest. There is only one thing: he is deathly afraid of his wife. However, his wife is a relative of Commissioner Guan, so his fear is understandable."

Bi Qianniu understood that Li Dunru’s obstruction was likely not his own intent, but rather under the instruction of Li Aguan. He spat and said, "Pah! A henpecked man."

The two led their guards back to the estate. Deng She was drenched in sweat. He washed his face, dismissed the maids, and before dinner, while Fang Zhen had yet to arrive, he took the time to ask Bi Qianniu, "What did the man sent by Hu Zhong tell you?"

"Two things. One, Pan Cheng and Pan Ren have left the city; two, Sha and Liu have also proposed returning to Liaoxi."

This was nothing strange. The main force attacking southern Liaoning was Guan Duo’s, and Pan Cheng and Sha-Liu’s original duty was to defend against Shuosijian and Liaoxi. Deng She pondered for a while and asked, "What did Commissioner Guan say?"

"Commissioner Guan went to see Pan Cheng off personally when he left the city."

Deng She nodded and said, "Since Pan and Liu are leaving, it seems the battle for southern Liaoning is about to begin. I learned this morning that Gao Jianu has sensed something is wrong. The elite Tartar troops in southern Liaoning are gathering toward Gaizhou. Even with a few tens of thousands of men, it will be a hard battle once it starts."

"The General is right. The man sent by Hu Zhong said that Commissioner Guan has been summoning his generals recently, assigning tasks and directing strategy. The battle of southern Liaoning will definitely start within five days at the latest. Hu Zhong asks: what about what the General promised?"

"Find a chance to tell him that everything in Pyongyang has been arranged. Once the battle begins, whatever is promised will be delivered."

"Understood."

"Has the military report from Yang Wanhu and He Guangxiu arrived today?" With the war approaching, he had agreed with Yang and He that they must report daily, regardless of whether anything happened.

"It has arrived. Everything is fine. It’s just that Guan and Pan went on an inspection this morning and specifically came to look at our troops. General Yang said Pan Cheng was arrogant and overbearing, and Commissioner Guan..." Bi Qianniu glanced at Deng She and said, "He spoke provocatively."

"Spoke provocatively?"

"Yes." Bi Qianniu repeated what Guan Duo had said to Yang and He. Deng She froze and asked, "How did Yang Wanhu respond?" Bi Qianniu replied, "He only said he follows the General's orders."

Deng She was not satisfied and frowned slightly. He thought for a moment; Yang Wanhu’s personality was what it was—expecting him to be tactful was impossible. This was fine, though; it let Guan Duo know that if he tried anything, he should weigh the consequences carefully.

However, once was enough; as the saying goes, too much of a good thing is bad. Any more would become a show of force. He ordered, "Tell them, if anyone comes to inspect again, Yang Wanhu is not to answer. All social duties are to be handled by He Guangxiu."

Bi Qianniu agreed. Seeing the twilight deepen and darkness fall, he lit the candles, and the reddish light brightened the room.

Deng She stretched and opened the thick stack of official documents on his desk. With the food and supplies resolved, the replenishment of arrows and the allocation of supplies still had to be calculated. The reports from his staff were just numbers and plans; as the commanding officer, he had to verify every one of them.

After turning a few pages, he felt annoyed. He recalled that since taking this position, Guan Duo rarely consulted him on strategic or tactical decisions; every day was nothing but paperwork and trivial numbers. Recalling the sieges and battles in Goryeo, where his banners flew and nothing could stand in his way, and the excitement of commanding thousands, he felt a longing.

He couldn't help but sigh, closing the book. "A real man should command a hundred thousand troops and gallop across the world!"

As the words left his lips, Bi Qianniu didn't react, but Deng She himself was startled. In Goryeo, he had been walking on thin ice, never feeling a moment of joy, only exhaustion. Why had such a thought suddenly occurred to him? It was clearly a longing he felt proud of.

Could it be that he did not actually hate it, but rather enjoyed it? Did he enjoy the thrill of life-and-death decisions, the feeling of superiority, and the power of holding thousands of lives in his hands? Or rather, when had his mindset changed?

Bi Qianniu did not know his thoughts and sighed to himself. Though he was a Liaodong man, he did not like Liaoyang. By comparison, he found Shuangcheng more familiar. He asked, "General, when are we going back?"

"After we take southern Liaoning," Deng She said absentmindedly.

"Really?"

Bi Qianniu's joy was evident. Hearing his eager follow-up, Deng She steadied himself, smiled, and said, "Really." He was decisive by nature and never wasted time on useless things. Whether he hated it or enjoyed it, to him and the reality he faced, it made no difference—it was all about survival. If he had to do it, he might as well enjoy it.

Some might say that if one only seeks to survive, isn't bowing one's head to paperwork the same? But he had been in the army since he was a child, steeped in the battlefield. He believed in the iron and blood forged by the sword and spear. Compared to the grandeur of breaking through enemy lines, the mediocrity of hiding behind a desk was incomparable.

Commanding a hundred thousand troops, galloping across the world.

He thought, "That doesn't seem bad." With his rising status, he came into contact with more of the higher-ups of the Liaoyang Red Turbans. Once the veil of mystery was lifted, people like Pan Cheng, Sha-Liu, Mao Jujing, and Zheng Sanbao were either brave but brainless, or straightforward but lacking wisdom. Most were illiterate and had narrow horizons. Hong Jixun had once said, "These people all rely on others to get things done." At the time, Deng She had disagreed, but now it seemed they were just that.

The only one who couldn't be underestimated was Guan Duo, whose schemes and tactics were indeed superior. Yet, to Deng She, the responses Guan Duo made were, without exception, all within the predictions he and Hong Jixun had made while in Shuangcheng. Like a rolling marble on a chessboard, he could never escape the pattern. Perhaps he was a tiger, or perhaps, he was just a paper tiger.

Deng She stood up tall. Command a hundred thousand troops, and gallop across the world.

Far from the wars of Goryeo, living in the suppressive, restrictive days of Liaoyang, for the first time, he clearly defined his life's pursuit. Liu Bei had once sighed over the fat returning to his thighs; Lord Zhao had once asked if Lian Po could still eat. It was like a sudden eruption; there might be repetitions, but for someone like him, who had grown up in the chaos of war, was there any other choice?

Bi Qianniu's joy faded, and he suddenly worried. "General, after the battle of southern Liaoning, if we want to leave, will Commissioner Guan let us?"

Deng She smiled slightly, his gaze shifting to the western wall, through the window, toward the deep night. He hummed softly, "They say the wild greens of Goryeo are delicious, but how can they compare to the scent of silk dresses in the deep palace?" As long as this matter succeeded, ten Guan Duos couldn't stop him from returning to Goryeo.

But would it succeed? He and Hong Jixun had analyzed it thoroughly. That person in the deep palace would never refuse the grand gift they were offering. In other words, there was an eighty or ninety percent chance of success.

Before the deed was done, his plan was simple: sit back and watch the war, take advantage of the chaos, demand some benefits, gather some refugees, preserve his strength, and bolster Goryeo. Then, depending on how the situation changed, he would adapt slowly.

In short, as Hong Jixun had said when proposing the plan: "If it succeeds, Liaodong is within reach; if it fails, there is no loss."

However, things were always changing. Three days later, on a morning, Guan Duo summoned him urgently. There was a change in Liaoxi; Shijiebao had attacked the previous night. Although they were repelled by Sha and Liu’s forces, to ensure the success of the upcoming major battle, Shenyang needed to be on high alert. The Shuangcheng troops had yet to arrive, and Guan Duo ordered sternly, "You are to issue an order immediately, commanding Zheng Sanbao and Chen Hu to arrive at the designated positions within three days. There must be no failure; those who miss the deadline will be beheaded!"

He stood before the map in the hall, pointing with a jade ruyi, and said decisively, "To prevent any changes, the battle of Gaizhou will be moved up to tomorrow! Commander Deng..."

"The subordinate is here."

"As the commander of the Eastern Route Army, you cannot just sit in Liaoyang. Military order: Deng She is to lead his five thousand men out of the city today, station themselves at the camp by the Taizi River, support Pan Mei at Dongmou Mountain, and monitor the movements of Shenyang."

Deng She was stunned, but immediately accepted the order: "I swear not to fail the Commissioner's mandate." He thought, "Why would Old Guan be willing to let me leave the city?" It was too strange. Instead of being happy, he became suspicious.

"Let's test your ability to lead troops. I hope you don't make me too satisfied. Otherwise, I might have to risk a rebellion in Shuangcheng and sell you to Nahachu along with them." Guan Duo’s inner thoughts did not show on his face.

Since re-evaluating Deng She, he had deliberated on Yao Haogu's opinions repeatedly. He was not a stubborn man; though overly confident, he had reached his current position by listening to advice. Moreover, he was decisive; when weighing two evils, he chose the lesser. In terms of "cutting off one's arm to survive," Deng She was far inferior to him.

After issuing the order, he shed his stern look and smiled. "Pan Mei of Dongmou Mountain has always been a talent in our army. With you, Little Deng, overseeing the command, Liaoxi will have two gems. Does our army not have two pearls? With the two of you, I am very relieved."

Deng She cupped his hands and said generously, "I dare not accept the metaphor of the pearls; I only seek to serve the country with one heart."

"Good, good!" Guan Duo laughed, and Deng She joined in. Their laughter traveled outside the room, startling the birds resting in the branches; they flapped their wings and took flight, some flying west, some heading north.