Volume III: Heroes Fall in Silence, the World Grows Old Chapter 26: The Fisherman V

Subsequent developments in the battle brought no further variables. With the cooperation of Li Jing's cavalry, He Guangxiu's division successfully executed a tactic using the center army as a pillar while enveloping from both flanks. Although He Guangxiu's command ability was insufficient, Deng She took personal command in the later stages. In less than half an hour, King Liao's people in the rear array could no longer withstand the pressure and routed in defeat.

Following previous precedent, Deng She strictly restrained the infantry, using only a small detachment of Li Jing's cavalry to pursue the victory while the main force turned forward.

He led the troops around the positions of Yang Wanhu and Xu Ren, attempting a second encirclement from the flank. However, most of the Yuan vanguard troops were cavalry with high mobility. Realizing the unfavorable situation and failing in three charges against the positions of Xu Ren and Yang Wanhu, the commanding Yuan general decisively abandoned seven or eight hundred corpses and retreated.

Deng She made a show of pursuing for a few paces, then broke the encirclement and let them withdraw to avoid being bitten back if pressed too hard. As the setting sun sank, the red clouds in the western sky blazed brilliantly, and on the eve of the night's arrival, this unexpected encounter came to an end.

Deng She ordered camp to be set up on the spot while dispatching men to clear the battlefield. The Red Turban soldiers, their eyes reddened with killing frenzy, knew no concept of treating prisoners kindly. Any wounded Yuan soldiers found alive on the battlefield were dealt a finishing blow, and their heads were severed to claim military merit.

Shortly after nightfall, the calculated casualties showed that the enemy suffered over thirteen hundred casualties, while his own army lost nearly two thousand men.

He Guangxiu went to congratulate Deng She, but Deng She looked gloomy. Staring at the corpse-strewn battlefield under the night veil, he sighed: "This battle cannot be considered a victory. Our casualties far exceeded those of the Tatars; at best, it is a draw."

Xu Ren and Li Jing, full of admiration, stood by his side and said, "The Tatars were prepared while we were unprepared. To achieve such a result under hasty battle conditions is already remarkable, General."

Not only did the two of them think so, but officers and infantry of all ranks felt the same way. As the soldiers tidying the battlefield and pitching tents passed by Deng She, every one of them raised their sabers in salute, their eyes filled with awe and admiration.

Deng She asked, "How many of our men are still fit for combat?"

"Aside from the casualties, quite a few are exhausted from prolonged bitter fighting. The soldiers currently fit for combat number just over six thousand."

"Deselect one thousand to garrison..." Deng She glanced at the nearby terrain. "Garrison the hilly area ahead to prevent the Tatars from returning for a counterattack. The rest of the army, pitch camp quickly." Seeing the hills, he remembered the fat man riding the thin horse earlier and asked, "Where is Centurion Liu Yang?"

He had just asked casually. When the Yuan army's charge was at its fiercest, the pressure borne by the hilly terrain was imaginable. He estimated that the centurion named Liu must have long since perished.

To his surprise, as soon as the words fell, a figure suddenly bounded out, radiant and full of spirit. Cupping his fists, he said in a clear voice, "This subordinate is here."

It gave Deng She quite a start. Turning his gaze to look at him, he saw him wearing armor and helmet, with very chubby cheeks that squeezed his narrow eyes into the shape of bamboo strips. Looking closer, his armor was stained with blood, yet it all seemed to be left by the enemy, and not a single wound could be found on his own body. Deng She laughed in astonishment and said, "What a fine Centurion Liu!"

Xu Ren smiled and said, "Is the General astonished by this fellow's extraordinary luck? Little do you know, Centurion Liu is a renowned lucky general in our army. Having served for several years, no matter how perilous the battle, he has never even scratched a hair on his skin."

Truly a lucky general. Deng She stared at him intently for a long time, remembering his adeptness at mounted archery, and thought to himself, "Could he be of military-household origin?" He asked, "Before joining the army, what business did you do?"

"To not deceive you, General, this subordinate originally engaged in business."

Deng She was slightly surprised and asked, "Oh? What kind of business?" For someone so blessed, wouldn't business be unfailingly profitable?

Liu Yang's face reddened slightly, and he said, "Capitalless... capital-free business."

Xu Ren, Li Jing, He Guangxiu, and the others burst into laughter upon hearing this. Deng She could not help it either; pointing at him, he chuckled aloud. The clear laughter pierced the night sky, startling the night birds resting on the battlefield into flight. Xu Ren shouted, "Personal guards, bring wine! Today we fought a bloody battle and won; we must toast the General a large cup."

***

Do not mock the drunken soldier fallen on the battlefield; since ancient times, how many warriors have ever returned?

After half a day of bitter fighting, it was not only the Red Turbans who were exhausted; the retreating Yuan army did not return either. Deng She remained cautious, dispatching dozens of roaming scouts up to thirty miles out, and then sent messengers to Dongmou Mountain to contact Pan Mei.

The clear moon rose to the zenith, the camp was hastily pitched, and after organizing the night-watch soldiers, Deng She was utterly exhausted. Insisting on patrolling the camp and consoling the wounded, he felt light-headed, barely managed to drag himself back to the commander's tent, and collapsed into sleep.

He had a restless night plagued by continuous nightmares. Vaguely, he felt as if someone had quietly walked to his side and was laborily helping him remove his heavy armor. Soon, a coolness was applied to his forehead and chest; he muttered something like sleep-talk and sighed comfortably.

After an unknown length of time, the coolness gradually turned warm, as if a slender body had drawn close to him, hesitatingly trying to move his arm like a kitten seeking its nest, yet finally lacking the courage, timidly not daring to move. Deng She rolled over, opened his arms, and pulled her into his embrace.

She lay motionless, pillowed on Deng She's arm. Before long, her soft breathing grew sweet—she had fallen asleep. Deng She opened his eyes to see a delicate, serene face. He noticed that the armor scattered under the bed had been wiped clean of bloodstains, and the arrow wound on his chest had been re-bandaged.

He cast his gaze around, listening to the chirping of insects outside the commander's tent and the occasional neigh of a warhorse in the distance. The dim candlelight and the woman in his arms gave him an unprecedented sensation at that moment.

The screams and fallen soldiers were vivid in his mind, their near-death faces never far away. It seemed as though only a moment had passed, yet also many years. The woman in his arms slept so serenely, pillowing on his arm, subconsciously burrowing into his embrace like a nursing infant, revealing an extremely moving expression.

Some people, if you give them a smile, will treat you as their only family. At this moment, she no longer resembled a porcelain doll; she possessed a vibrant vitality. She was relaxed and natural, seemingly carefree. Perhaps only in dreams could she release all her innate nature?

No matter what, she was also a human being—merely a sleepy little girl.

The night-watch soldier struck the third watch drum, and a flurry of hurried footsteps came from outside the tent. After two or three barely audible whispers, Bi Qianniu, who stubbornly refused to rest while guarding the tent front, tiptoed to the exterior of the tent.

"General?" he called out in a low voice through the tent curtain.

Li Guixiu slept lightly, but as if unwilling to leave the warmth of Deng She's embrace, she still kept her eyes closed, moved with a slight shudder, and knitted her lovely brows. Deng She was not sure if she was awake, but he knew he had to wake up. Only the softness touched by Li Guixiu's recent action made him hesitate for a moment. He gently pressed his lips to her orange-petal-like lips, then carefully moved her head away and resolutely rose.

He threw on a robe and stood up, stepping out of the tent curtain into the moonlight. Making a gesture with his fingers to Bi Qianniu, he hissed, "Keep it down, speak outside."

He did not see a pair of eyes open immediately, like stars sliding down into the deep sea. In a world where human lives were treated like grass, two people to some extent sharing the same illness—in those star-like pupils, covered by mist, crystal-clear dewdrops welled up.

"Brothers from Gaizhou."

Deng She recognized the newcomer; he was one of the guards he had sent to Hu Zhong and Liu Daqing, responsible both for surveillance and for facilitating communication. With a major battle underway in Gaizhou, why had he come suddenly? Deng She's first thought was: "Has the Gaizhou campaign ended?"

The messenger said in a low, hurried voice, "General, an upheaval has occurred in Gaizhou. Hu Zhong and Liu Daqing sent this humble subordinate with an eight-hundred-li urgent report."

The gentle night immediately turned into one of gleaming spears and armored horses. Deng She pressed that shred of softness deep into his heart and gave a concise order: "Speak."

"Mao Jujing's division of six million—*no, sixty thousand*—troops attacking Gaizhou arrived under the walls of Gaizhou days ago. Before fighting had lasted even two days, a faction of the rearguard Red Turbans mutinied. Occupying the area between Gaizhou and Liaoyang, they have cut off communications between the two places."

Gaizhou and mutiny; Liaoyang and Shenyang; Dongmou Mountain and the Taizi River. Deng She was startled. The points that had previously puzzled him regarding Nahachai's movements suddenly seemed to have a connecting thread. Yet he had no time for deep thought and commanded, "Enter the tent with me to speak further." Taking two steps, he lifted the tent curtain and turned back to instruct Bi Qianniu: "Pass down the order: no one is within a hundred paces. Quickly invite He Guangxiu and Yang Wanhu over."

***

Entering the tent, he suddenly remembered Li Guixiu sleeping in the inner room. Hesitating for a moment—softness was softness, but military affairs were military affairs—he signaled the messenger to wait inside and strode quickly to the inner chamber. Li Guixiu had already dressed and was kneeling on the ground, quietly looking at him.

"There are matters in my army; you go out first," Deng She said gently.

Li Guixiu said not a word, nodded obediently, and with a trace of faint fragrance, light-footedly walked out of the tent. Only then did Deng She ask, "How many rebel troops are there?"

"Around ten thousand."

"What countermeasures does Marshal Mao Jujing have?"

"Before this humble subordinate left, Mao Jujing issued a strict order demanding that Gaizhou be captured within three days at all costs."

"How is Gaizhou?"

"The city walls are sturdy and provisions are ample. Gao Jianu seems to have made preparations long ago, and several thousand Japanese auxiliaries are assisting from the highlands outside the city. Hu Zhong and Liu Daqing judge that given the current situation of enemies front and rear, let alone three days, even ten days would make it difficult to capture."

"And Liaoyang?"

"Mao Jujing sent word overnight to Liaoyang that very day, but on the way here, this humble subordinate passed through Liaoyang and saw no Liaoyang reinforcements leaving the city."

Guan Duo naturally would not rashly leave the city; even if he sortied to reinforce, he would need to assess the situation in Shenyang first. Deng She pursued the question: "Do you know the situation in Liaoxi and Guangning?"

"Hu Zhong mentioned that a few days ago, Zhang Jujing and Shijiabao launched an offensive in Liaoxi, pinning down Sha and Liu. Counting on their reinforcement is unlikely. As for the Guangning direction, it is unclear."

Deng She paced twice and barked an order toward outside the tent: "Quickly send out roaming scouts to reconnoiter Shenyang."

Liaoxi could not provide reinforcements; Guangning, facing Shuosijian's army of one hundred thousand, was probably struggling to preserve itself. If his judgment was correct, the mutiny in Gaizhou was definitely masterminded by Nahachai, using Gao Jianu and the rebels to bog down Mao Jujing and create a vacuum in Liaoyang. Nahachai's next step would undoubtedly be a surprise attack on Liaoyang.

Once Liaoyang was taken and Liaoxi and Guangning were unable to look after themselves, Mao Jujing's isolated army outside would be settled in a matter of days. Then they would strike either Liaoxi or Guangning. Deng She chuckled silently, "Nahachai's idea is clearly to defeat us piece by piece."

Once Liaoyang—the foundation of the Liaodong Red Turbans—underwent a transformation, the battles at Dongmou Mountain and the Taizi River would become completely irrelevant. Deng She's mind spun rapidly. What should he do?

He thought of two paths: either retreat to reinforce Liaoyang, or rendezvous with Chen Hu and fall back to Shuangcheng. But was there a third path? Outside the tent, armor brushed against armor and swords clashed. A personal guard drew his blade and challenged sternly: "Who goes there?"

Two voices answered simultaneously: "He." "Yang."

He Guangxiu and Yang Wanhu had arrived.