Volume III: Heroes Fall in Silence, the Universe Grows Old Chapter 21: The Choice (Part III)

War is always like this; the outbreak invariably comes unexpectedly. The timing of their contact with the Yuan army greatly exceeded Deng She's anticipation.

Just as Deng She was still ten li away from Dongmou Mountain, a detachment of the Yuan army branched out to intercept them. The number was not large—around four or five thousand men—but all of them were cavalry.

"The surrounding terrain is open, which is perfectly suited for cavalry maneuvers. General, the Tatars' intention is obvious: they are using a small elite force to intercept our advance while increasing the main force's pressure to assault Dongmou Mountain. Our army must rout the coming enemy as soon as possible. Otherwise, once Dongmou Mountain falls and the Tatar main force is freed up, our army will inevitably fall into a two-front war and find ourselves surrounded by the enemy."

The speaker was Xu Ren. Ever since Guan Duo raised the banner of rebellion, Xu Ren had followed him closely. Over the years, he had accumulated continuous battle merits, rising from a humble foot soldier to his current rank of a Myriarch. His combat experience was exceptionally seasoned. One could truly say of him that he was a fierce general plucked straight from the ranks of the infantry.

Deng She sat tall in the saddle, his legs pressed against the horse's flanks, gazing into the distance. The army had been making a forced march since the fifth watch, and the soldiers' physical stamina was heavily depleted. To rush into battle unprepared would certainly make them no match for the elite Yuan cavalry. He asked, "How much longer can Yang Wanhu's unit hold out?"

"General Yang's unit consists of only a thousand men, all of them foot soldiers. In my estimation, if they can hold on for another two quarters of an hour at most, it will be a remarkable feat," Xu Ren replied based on his own experience. He was acting under Guan Duo's orders: provided it did not affect the overall situation and was favorable to the campaign, he had to obey Deng She's commands. Forcing down the anxiety in his heart, he urged Deng She earnestly, "Our army has just arrived, and our battle formation is not yet formed. Just now, observing from a high vantage point, the incoming Tatar cavalry can be called an elite force, by no means comparable to ordinary scouts. General, please make a decisive choice swiftly."

The war drums beat like rolling thunder, ceaseless and oppressive. In the distance beneath Dongmou Mountain, the sound of artillery shook the heavens; a few miles ahead, the sounds of Yang Wanhu's unit fighting a desperate, mortal struggle faintly reached their ears.

Deng She remained calm and composed. He gazed into the distance for a moment and gave his orders: "Send out scouts up to ten li ahead, with a focus on patrolling our left and right flanks, as well as the rear."

"The left and right flanks?"

"Yang Wanhu's unit arrived before us; his force was small, yet the Tatars did not block him. The moment our army arrived—because our force is large—the Tatars launched their offensive. The Tatars have clearly plotted this for a long time. Their strategy is to besiege a point to strike at reinforcements. We must be cautious, on our guard, and exercise utmost care." Therefore, dispatching scouts was the primary task.

Someone immediately acknowledged the order and rode off.

"What is the next step?"

"Order: Tell Yang Wanhu that if he holds out for one hour, I will grant him extraordinary merit; for three-quarters of an hour, a great merit; for two quarters of an hour, no merit; and if he holds for less than two quarters of an hour, he shall bring me his head." Deng She turned his head to the left and called out, "Where is the camp inspector?"

A towering, robust warrior leaped forward: "Your subordinate is here."

"Take a hundred men forward to supervise Yang Wanhu's camp. Anyone who dares to take a single step back shall be beheaded! Anyone who fights bravely forward shall be rewarded!" When facing the enemy in battle, the methods used to inspire soldiers to give their all were myriad, but they boiled down to two words: reward and punishment. It was better to make the soldiers fear their own commander than to fear the enemy.

The camp inspector acknowledged the order and departed.

"Order: Our vanguard shall form a wagon laager. Musketeers, archers, and spearmen shall take the front to form the second line of defense." Most of Deng She's troops were infantry; his cavalry consisted only of the thousand or so men brought by Xu Ren and Li Jing. There was no clever trick to infantry fighting cavalry—one simply relied on solid positions and long weapons.

"Use the triple-layer formation. Spearmen and halberdiers shall take the second rank, with close-combat weapons in the rear." Deng She called over Fang Buzhen and instructed, "Gather the silver coin and cash from the camp and hand it all over to the camp inspector. Open the chests and display them at the rear of our formation. Those who slay the enemy and do not retreat will be rewarded on the spot!"

He managed the deployment with practiced skill, issuing orders one after another. Xu Ren and Li Jing asked themselves if they could have done better in his place, and concluded they could not. Silently, they went off separately to mobilize their troops, pitch camp, and deploy the formations.

Along the earlier march, Deng She had guarded against a sudden raid by the Yuan army and had made preparations. First, the marching order of the various military branches followed the triple-layer formation; second, all the baggage wagons accompanying the army were positioned on the flanks and the vanguard. Foresight brings success, and now that the arrangements had to be implemented, it proved convenient and swift.

The vanguard troops halted, and the heavy wagons were pushed forward. Amidst the continuous flow of soldiers, the veterans marched as if nothing unusual were happening, while the recruits wore looks of hesitation and uncertainty. Yet, under the suppression and stern shouts of their officers, the movement remained reasonably orderly.

The dragon banners representing the wagons, the hound banners representing the archers, and the feather banners representing the shields moved forward slowly and without interruption. Close behind them fluttered the pennants representing the spears, halberds, swords, and axes. Every single banner represented the assembly point of a different military branch. Amidst the flowing streams of soldiers deploying into formation, Deng She spurred his horse up a high ground to survey the terrain on both sides.

The afternoon sun was scorching hot. Directly ahead were the light-armored cavalry of the Yuan army; behind him, to the left and right, stretched endless seas of red banners and red robes. The dust kicked up by men and horses filled the sky and drifted into his nose, causing Deng She to cough a few times.

Far off to the left ran a river, the sunlight baking it into a blindingly bright white ribbon; ten li away to the right, Dongmou Mountain loomed lofty and majestic. Between the river and the mountain lay a roughly open expanse. There were patches of grass near the river, extending toward the left with a few scattered bushes and the occasional low hill, interspersed with several dilapidated farmhouses. What must have once been farmland had long since become an abandoned wasteland.

"Bring me the banner." Deng She reached out, asking Bi Qianniu for the large embroidered banner bearing a flying bird. According to Guan Duo's military system, the flying bird banner represented the cavalry.

Bi Qianniu offered it with both hands. The banner pole, over a丈 (ten feet) long, was grasped in Deng She's hand. When paths cross in a narrow space, the brave win. He raised the banner, called over Li Jing, and the two galloped down the slope. He raised his voice and shouted, "Brave warriors of the Great Song!"

The cavalrymen gathered around the banner. Deng She galloped back and forth before their formation, mustered his strength, and shouted in a resonant voice: "Our Great Song's iron cavalry have galloped across the Huai River, roared proudly through the Two Rivers, surged across North China, and ventured far beyond the northern borders. In over a hundred battles, large and small, when have we ever suffered a single defeat? Wherever our flying bird banner has reached, the Tatars have always scattered like dead leaves before the wind!

"Aided by the spirits of the Holy Emperor, the heavenly might of our Great Song has shaken the Jiangnan region. From the Tartar chieftains down to women and children, who does not know of us? You are all invincible warriors. Yet we suffered a defeat at Fengzhou, a grief that stings our hearts to this day! We are grown men—how can we encounter such shame and not wish to avenge it?

"Today, although the Tatars are numerous, they belong to different factions; in victory they refuse to yield to one another, and in defeat they refuse to save one another. How could their courage ever compare to ours? This is precisely the moment for real men to exact revenge, wipe away disgrace, and establish meritorious service. Today, do you wish for revenge?"

The entire army roared, "Hah!"

"Do you wish to use their blood to wash away our shame?"

"Hah!"

"Do you wish to use our blood to reflect our glory?"

***

"Hah!"

"Ten months ago, who burned down their Shangdu?"

"We did!"

"Today, who will repay blood with blood and tooth with tooth?"

"We did!"

"Draw your sabers! Raise your swords! Urge your fine steeds forward! Follow behind me, and wherever this banner points, let our hooves never stop running!"

The soldiers' eyes split with fury, and the sound of sabers and swords being drawn rang out like thunder across the front of the formation.

Deng She shouted, "We shall annihilate this enemy before our morning meal, and drink strong liquor together!"

Li Jing galloped closely behind him, raising his saber and shouting, "We shall annihilate this enemy before our morning meal, and drink strong liquor together!"

The entire army urged their horses forward, raising their sabers and roaring, "We shall annihilate this enemy before our morning meal, and drink strong liquor together!"

The thousand-man iron cavalry followed behind the flying bird banner and General Deng's commander's flag, rolling forward like a dragon, their murderous intent piercing the clouds. Sweeping past the deployed infantry, they wedged themselves into the left flank of the position. *When an army positions itself on the left, there is no disaster.* The purpose of Deng She's move was to contend with the Yuan army for dominance over the left flank.

The high-spirited cavalry swept past in a flash. Deng She's heroic posture as he galloped forward with the banner left all the soldiers spellbound. Among them was Fang Mihan.

Before coming to Liaoyang, at the request of Hong Jixun, Wen Huaguo, Chen Hu, and others, Deng She had brought along an additional thousand Han soldiers. Fang Mihan was one of them. In the bloody battle of Pyongyang, he had taken two enemy heads, and for his achievements was promoted to a squad leader—bringing him one step closer to his aspiration of having meat to eat every day.

He was a spearmen, assigned to the vanguard formation by order. He did not pull back his gaze until Deng She had ridden far away. Before him, the wagon laager was essentially set up. Behind the wagon laager were the shield-bearers; behind the shield-bearers were the musketeers and archers; and further back still were the spearmen.

Most of his nine subordinates had experienced combat, and three of them had killed men. Accustomed to bloodshed and firmly believing in Deng She's record of invincibility, they were not overly nervous, despite facing an unexpected encounter.

However, there was one problem they could not help worrying about. One of them asked Fang Mihan, "Tou'er, can we trust those fellows?" With that, he tilted his chin toward the left. Responsible for defending that section of the line were the Red Turbans brought by Xu Ren.

Although Fang Mihan was young, having killed many men, he possessed a hardened toughness. He glanced casually to the left and said, "It's not like we haven't won battles when outnumbered. We can win even without them."

"How much silver coin do you get for cutting off one head?"

Someone scoffed, "With your skinny-monkey build, you're hoping for reward money? Do you even have the life to collect it?"

Accustomed to life and death, they had no taboos about such talk. If they won, there would be silver to enjoy themselves; if they died in battle, it was just a worthless, wretched life anyway. In times of chaos, a human life was cheap, and being able to live this long was already pure profit, so there was nothing to lament.

The one called Skinny Monkey spat and retorted, "When I fought at Dingzhou, I cut off ten heads myself. You look down on me?"

He was obviously bragging. The person who had spoken earlier said, "Ten heads? The Great General is strict and fair with rewards and punishments—how come you weren't promoted to a centurion then? You cut them off? I reckon you picked them off dead bodies! Let me remind you, claiming false merit is punishable by beheading. Be careful the Great General hears you and you lose your head."

"Tieniu, you!"

Tieniu looked around, sighed, and said, "It's a pity there are no trees here."

Someone chimed in, "Why's that?"

"So Monkey could climb them... Hey, I've got a banana right here, you want a bite?" Tieniu pulled up his trousers, clutched his crotch, and asked with a straight face. Before Skinny Monkey could reply, Tieniu began to sing the little rhyme he usually made up to tease him: "Lower your head and eat a big banana, la la la."

Skinny Monkey burned with shame and anger, and lunged forward to beat him. Fang Mihan, who had been listening to their bantering with a smile all along, reached out and grabbed him by the collar: "Don't move! Do you really not want to live? The formation is set—how dare you disrupt the ranks?"

A patrolling centurion happened to walk past the front of their formation, cast a cold glance at them, ignored the chatter, and continued walking onward. Skinny Monkey let out a heavy breath and said, "Buddha bless us, hope that grim-faced ghost didn't see."

The sounds of combat ahead grew louder and closer. Fang Mihan stood on tiptoe, shading his eyes with his hand to look into the distance. Yang Wanhu's unit seemed unable to hold out any longer; the sharp banners of the Tatars had pierced deep into their formation. The trampling hooves made the earth tremble slightly, and from time to time, shrieks of agony, flesh, and blood flew through the air. Fang Mihan let out a loud cheer: "Good! Another Tatar cavalryman cut down."

Tieniu praised, "General Yang truly lives up to his name as a tiger in our army... Skinny Monkey, how long has General Yang been holding out?"

"Our formation is almost completely set up. Even if it hasn't been an hour, it's got to be at least three-quarters of an hour, right?"

"That's at least a great merit. Once this battle is over, he'll be promoted by at least one rank." Tieniu didn't know the specific rules for rewards and punishments, and speculated based on wishful thinking. Skinny Monkey didn't know either, but that didn't stop him from arguing back.

Fang Mihan watched for another moment and said, "Stop bickering. The Tatars are thrusting deeper and deeper—it'll be our turn soon." He paused, sweeping his gaze across the faces of his brothers one by one, and said, "Skinny Monkey, joking aside, you must be careful. Don't forget, your mother is still back in Shuangcheng, waiting for you to support her... Tieniu, your merit is almost within reach; cut down one more head, and you'll be a squad leader too. At this rate, in a few years you'll have enough money to go back to Hebei and find your younger brother."

Fang Mihan was quite astute. Although he had never read books, he knew the principle of loving one's soldiers like one's own children—only then would the brothers be willing to risk their lives for you. He reminded them one by one, and the men fell silent for a moment. Tieniu's family originally owned ten mu of land, but later, by imperial decree, local officials had heartlessly seized it to build a Lama temple. As a result, they had become refugees, wandering all the way to Hebei where they encountered the chaos of war; his parents died, and his brothers were scattered.

Gritting his teeth, he said, "Those damned Tartars! Killing one is breaking even, cutting down two is making a profit."

A sudden battle cry burst out from the front-left, and everyone hurriedly looked over to see that a detachment of the Yuan army had broken off to block Deng舍 (Deng She). They saw that Deng舍's commander's flag did not stop for even a second, pressing forward unstoppably. In an instant, it plunged dozens of meters deep into the Tatar formation. The commander's flag and the flying bird banner moved as if through an empty realm, sending the Tatars tumbling horses and men alike.

Fang Mihan cheered and applauded, "The Great General is brave!"

From the right came another rapid clatter of hooves. Turning their heads, they saw Xu Ren leading a hundred or so personal guards, galloping close with a resounding rumble and kicking up a trail of dust. When Deng She went to charge the enemy formation, he had temporarily delegated the command of the infantry to Xu Ren and Yang Wanhu.

"General Yang is going to withdraw! All troops: Form ranks! Form ranks!"

Within the spear and halberd square formation, the soldiers maintained a certain distance front-to-back and left-to-right. According to conventional military theory, "each foot soldier occupies a space where both width and depth are two paces," which translated to roughly three meters. However, when facing superior cavalry, this formation could be flexibly adjusted; the intervals could be shortened to form a much denser forest of spears.

"Don't panic! Don't panic!"

Several familiar banners fluttered as they withdrew from the front line, passing the right side toward the rear.

"Good! General Yang has successfully retreated, circling around the camp to the rear."

The thundering hooves of the Yuan army drew closer and closer.

"Hold steady! Hold steady! With the wagon laager, shields, muskets, and crossbows in front, the Tatars won't get through without losing a thousand men!"

Like the other squad leaders, Fang Mihan softly pacified his subordinates while watching Xu Ren gallop toward the vanguard: "General Xu is moving forward! Hold the wagon laager!"

Several centurions either charged forward alongside Xu Ren or remained in place to observe the battle situation. After giving a few final instructions, the war drums began to beat, their vibrations quickening the men's heartbeats. The centurions moved at the sound of the drums, shouting themselves hoarse: "Raise your spears! Brace your halberds!"

Fang Mihan, Tieniu, Skinny Monkey, and the others clamped their mouths shut, braced their spears and halberds against the ground, hunched over, and readied themselves for contact almost simultaneously with the issuance of the order. The thunder of hooves rolled on. Looking back, the troops saw that Yang Wanhu—who had just retreated behind the formation—now stripped to the waist, brandishing a great axe, and leading dozens of hardened veterans, was once again charging back to the front line.

He rolled his eyes wide and shouted, "Where is the Great General?"

Dozens of elite veterans shouted back in unison, "At the front-left, thrusting a hundred meters deep into the Tatar formation!"

Yang Wanhu beat his chest and shouted again to rouse their courage, "All troops! Where is the Great General?"

With Deng She bathing in blood at the front and personally courting danger, Fang Mihan felt a surge of hot blood rush to his head. The entire army shouted in unison: "At the front-left, thrusting a hundred meters deep into the Tatar formation!"

The first wave of Yuan cavalry reached the wagon laager. Hand-to-hand combat and slaughter were about to begin.

***

*Translators' Notes:*
1. *Jingqi* (旌旗): Banners with colorful feathers tied to the ends of their poles.
2. *Shi zuo ci, wu jiu* (师左次，无咎): To be positioned on the left or stationed on the left brings safety. Extended meaning: retreat for defense, temporarily avoiding the enemy's sharp edge. In ancient warfare, soldiers usually held shields in their left hand and blades in their right. Therefore, when fighting close quarters, especially when paths crossed in a narrow space, one naturally wanted to stay close to the left slope or cliff, forcing the enemy to one's right, which facilitated left-handed blocking while the right hand wielded the weapon to strike. This principle later evolved into a general rule for living, camping, and rituals.
3. *Fan zu yi ren ju di, guang zong ge er bu* (凡卒一人居地，广纵各二步): "Each foot soldier occupies a space where both width and depth are two paces," roughly equivalent to three meters. Some scholars believe the distance between two soldiers was 1.84 meters. Intervals could be shortened: Han Shizhong once heavily defeated the Jin army using a tactic where ten thousand men holding battleaxes advanced side by side, thereby defeating the charge of enemy cavalry from the flanks.