Volume Two: I Strike, Stirring Heaven and Earth Chapter 6: Strict Discipline III

After the city fell, the soldiers universally possessed the mentality of conquerors. In their jargon, they referred to the Goryeo people as “two-legged sheep,” meaning they could do as they pleased, deciding their fate at will. The three days of massacre had only fueled this arrogance, bringing it to a feverish pitch.

Human nature is driven by emotion; to order a massacre is one thing, to command the cessation of killing is another. Few can do either cleanly or decisively. Though Deng She had issued the order to sheath swords, many obeyed in form but not in spirit. The three who were beheaded were merely unlucky scapegoats.

Early next morning, Deng She went to escort Wen Huaguo and Chen Hu out of the city. He almost doubted he was in a military camp, for within the gate, the spoils looted by each company lay piled everywhere—pots and pans, furniture large and small. The narrow paths between camps were further cramped by these heaps.

Not far along, thin ropes crossed the road, tied to random stakes driven into the ground, draped with all manner of garments. Most were old clothes swapped for newer ones stolen during the sack. The soldiers, mostly from farming backgrounds and accustomed to poverty, couldn’t bear to throw anything away; they washed and kept these for future use. Among the drab tunics and belts, there were even many women’s garments, gaudily colored.

A few pigs and sheep, muddied and snorting, wandered across the road, chased by two officers who cursed as they ran after them. Upon seeing Deng She and the others, they stopped, saluted, and hurried away, leaving chaos in their wake.

Wen Huaguo chuckled, “Damn it, they can’t even keep track of a pig.” He raised his thumb in praise toward Deng She, “But these two are fine fighters. The left one took down three enemies single-handedly during the night we defended the camp.” By his tone, these officers were his men.

Deng She had seen such scenes before; the Red Turbans were often worse. But that had been someone else’s army, and now it was his own—his foundation for survival. His feelings were entirely different.

Suppressing his anger, he pointed at the women’s clothes on the rope, “Who told you to hang these?”

Wen Huaguo glanced at them carelessly, “During the massacre, some Goryeo women were seized. Probably some fellow, soft-hearted, didn’t want the women dressing in filth.” He looked around, smacked his lips, and shook his head, “It is unsightly.” He summoned a bodyguard, “Go find out which bastard hung these up. Tell him to take them down immediately.”

From Wen Huaguo’s words, Deng She caught an implication. He turned and asked, “Are there women in the camp?”

“Of course,” Wen Huaguo said, surprised. In every Red Turban sack, this was the norm.

“How many?”

“Never counted.” Wen Huaguo was about to continue, but Chen Hu interrupted, “Not too many—about four or five hundred. Most are kept by captains and above. The rest, taken by ordinary soldiers, have been gathered into a special brothel camp.” He pointed ahead, “It’s set up right there.”

In the direction indicated, behind piles of spoils and several tents, a wooden fence enclosed dozens of tents. In front of each, long lines formed, and a table was set at the entrance, manned by an officer. Every soldier seeking entry had to pay something—money or goods.

Such a sight, even among the Red Turbans, had never appeared. Deng She rubbed his eyes, certain he was not seeing things, and asked, half amused, half annoyed, “Whose idea was this?”

Wen Huaguo pointed to Luo Guoqi, clapping him on the shoulder, “Old Luo suggested it, a fine idea. General, in just two days, the quartermaster has collected—how much was it?” He turned to ask Zhao Guo.

Zhao Guo, who managed supplies, replied, “About three thousand taels of silver.”

Luo Guoqi smiled modestly, not daring to claim credit, “In ancient times, Guan Zi established women’s quarters partly to collect funds for the state. Our army was formed in hardship and traveled far; the treasury is scant. So I borrowed wisdom from the ancients, nothing to boast about.”

Deng She gripped his riding crop, nearly striking them as they congratulated themselves. In such peril, like a leaking ship on turbulent waters, they indulged in these distractions! He barely contained his anger, saying, “Issue orders—disperse the soldiers. We must prepare to assemble for the afternoon departure.”

“It’s still early. General, you don’t know how much loot the men have taken. Supposedly half should be surrendered, but if a third is, it’s a miracle. The money’s useless to them, so we provide entertainment. It rewards the troops and brings in funds—vital for recruiting more soldiers.”

Wen Huaguo spoke persuasively, voicing the prevailing opinion among the commanders. Since they planned to establish themselves in Goryeo, recruiting was essential—and for that, money was needed. The city’s treasury was poor, so they had to find other means. Thus, Luo Guoqi’s proposal for military brothels was universally approved.

“Gentlemen, priorities must be clear. The key now is not recruiting, but establishing a foothold.” Deng She’s fingers whitened as he gripped the crop, struggling to keep calm as he explained, “We’ve just taken Twin Cities—like a man, needing two legs to stand. The urgent task is not recruiting or gathering funds, but fortifying camps and repairing the city, pacifying the populace, setting a target, and seizing control. Then, the two cities will support each other and be far more secure.”

The others nodded in agreement, Luo Guoqi glancing at Deng She’s expression and sensing unease, hurriedly said, “General, your foresight is unmatched; I am ashamed by comparison. Hearing your words, I see that setting up brothels is indeed premature. I’ll gather the troops for your instructions.”

Deng She stopped him, “Issue orders: all captains or above who have kept women are to surrender them—no private retention allowed.”

Luo Guoqi’s foot, which had started forward, returned to its place. He wasn’t opposed, but after a month observing the commanders’ temperaments, he knew resistance was certain. Deng She he dared not offend; Wen, Chen, and the others he preferred not to.

As expected, Wen Huaguo was the first to protest, “General, abolish the brothel if you must, but let the captains have their fun. The men have suffered for months; they deserve some relief. This order is too harsh.”

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Monk Li chimed in, “General, wounded as you are, you haven’t been in the camp lately. The men are truly worn out. They say, after struggling thousands of miles and risking their lives to take Twin Cities, these pleasures are worth dying for.”

Deng She surveyed the group; apart from Zhao Guo and Zhang Daier, the others either echoed support or remained silent in tacit agreement. For the first time as commander, his orders met with widespread dissent, and he realized the gravity of the situation.

He paused, “How many captains or above have kept women privately?”

“Sixty to seventy percent,” Chen Hu replied.

“And among the thousand-man commanders?” Those present were all in Deng She’s circle; except for Zhao Guo and Zhang Daier, all had kept women—even He Guangxiu, who had taken one and called her his ‘foot warmer.’

Deng She said nothing further, spurred his mount, and left the commanders behind. They exchanged looks; even the most obtuse could see Deng She was angry. The mood became awkward and tense. They followed, none daring to speak aloud.

Chen Hu, understanding Deng She’s feelings, caught up, “General, are you worried that if the enemy attacks now, our troops’ morale will falter and we’ll be unable to resist?”

Deng She sneered, “Unable to resist? I think we’d collapse instantly.” He gestured with his crop at the camp, “Commanders with women on each arm, captains warming their tents at night, lieutenants turning into cowards, soldiers queuing for prostitutes.” He laughed bitterly, “Ridiculous—pitiful.”

Wu Henian, who came with him, seized the chance to ask, “General, what’s so amusing?” He disliked these rough warriors, always avoiding confrontation, and now relished Deng She’s rebuke.

“I laugh at what Master Hong said: ‘Empty fame and reputation are but a dream.’ Tomorrow by the river, perhaps it will be the place where generals die. I didn’t believe it then, but now I see every word is true!”

“And what do you regret?”

“I regret that Master Hong is away on business,” Deng She touched his head and glanced at the commanders’ faces, “When these dozen fine heads fall all at once, he won’t be here to witness it.” He sighed, “Had I known today’s outcome, why break out of Fengzhou? It would’ve been better to persuade my adoptive father to abandon these men, return home, and avoid being separated by death as we are now.”

Wen Huaguo, unable to bear it, rode up and grabbed Deng She’s reins, “Brother She! Why say such things? The old leader died in battle; who among us doesn’t grieve?”

“Grieve? I see you’re all quite happy. Facing death, yet scrambling for pleasure.” Deng She shook off Wen Huaguo’s hand, scoffing.

Anger alone wouldn’t work with subordinates; he could enforce his order, but suppression would only breed stronger resistance. Seeing most opposed, he immediately shifted tactics—first provocation, then reason—to win their genuine acceptance.

Wen Huaguo’s face flushed; he hated being accused of cowardice or indulgence and snapped, “It’s just some women. Brother She, whatever you say, I’ll do.”

Luo Guoqi smoothed things over, “General’s concerns are farsighted. Victory should not breed arrogance; it’s right, it’s right.”

Huang Donkey had lingered behind, feeling lately like a deaf man’s ear—an ornament. Seeing Deng She, Wen, and Chen at odds, he gloated, then added fuel to the fire, “The scouts are a hundred miles out; any sign of movement, we’ll know in advance. If the enemy comes, we can prepare then. In my opinion, Wen General is right—let the men have a few days relief. It shows the general’s benevolence.”

He regretted it instantly, fearing his rash words would cause future trouble. He glanced at Deng She, who hadn’t even looked his way. Relieved, he then felt slighted, biting his lip and deciding to watch how things played out.

Not only Deng She, but none of the others—Li Monk, Luo Guoqi, Guan Shirong—took his words seriously. The most indifferent was Guan Shirong; he cared little for women, but his clansmen had seized many, so he neither opposed nor supported.

Chen Hu changed the subject, “Speaking of Goryeo, it’s strange. The city’s been taken for days, yet there’s been no movement at all.”

Luo Guoqi replied, “North of Twin Cities is the Wolf Forest Mountains, south lies the Mud River. Goryeo’s major cities are in Shanxi and Hedong. I suspect it takes time to mobilize, and crossing mountains and rivers isn’t easy…”

“We crossed the river and mountains, traversed Jurchen lands, and it wasn’t easy. How long did it take to reach Twin Cities?”

“Eight days.”

“How long since the city fell?”

“Five days.”

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“How long do you think before Goryeo’s army arrives?”

Luo Guoqi calculated carefully, growing tense, “Four or five days at the shortest, ten at most.” Goryeo’s terrain was slower than Jurchen lands, but easier in Shanxi and Hedong. Factoring in time to gather troops and supplies, even at the most generous estimate, no more than half a month.

Deng She then asked, “How many days to fortify the city and camps?”

“At least four days at best.”

Deng She raised his crop again, pointing at the brothel camp, “With the soldiers in this state, can they finish in four days?” A rope blocked his path; the bodyguard leading the way hesitated, and Deng She struck with his crop, sending the stakes crashing down.

In the swirling dust, he reined in and looked back at the commanders, his face dark, “If the city isn’t fortified and camps aren’t built, if the enemy moves it will be with overwhelming force. What will we use to resist?” His pent-up fury erupted, “You? You? Or those cowards and whoremongers? Or those so-called heroes whose legs have gone soft in the women’s tents?”

He had never lost his temper before the commanders, always speaking courteously. Now, with thunderous rage, Wen, Chen, and the others fell silent, as timid as mice.

Deng She’s voice was so loud it split his wound open, blood soaking the bandages. Zhao Guo hurried to rewrap it. Deng She closed his eyes, anxiety, worry, and anger surging like floodwaters, compelling him to speak, “When Fengzhou fell, we fled east in panic. By luck we took Yongping, and the army rallied a little.

“Since then, two great battles. On the night we defended the camp, artillery shook heaven and earth, and the ground was littered with dead and wounded. We crossed the Yalu, plunged into a wasteland, journeyed a thousand miles, alone in a foreign land. Surrounded by enemies, we fought bitterly day and night and finally broke the city.

“Now we have this city, ruined and broken, surrounded by beasts and dangers. Eight directions filled with foes, holding a single corner, no help outside, no support within. Yet you squander what little you’ve gained, indulging in pleasure. When orders are given, you drag your feet. Blood outside the city walls is barely dry—do you not fear, when the enemy comes, new blood will cover the old?”

He opened his eyes, anguish and anger written on his face, “Every time I think of our plight, I cannot sleep, rising three or four times a night! I wrack my brain, plan ceaselessly—not for riches or glory, but so you all may survive and find a place in this chaos. But you—what about you?” He seemed to ask himself, but also to interrogate the commanders, “What about you?”

His heartfelt words struck deep. The commanders stood in silence; after the defeat at Fengzhou, all their hardships flashed before their eyes, moved by Deng She’s speech.

Chen Hu was first to kneel, bowing to accept orders, “General, please command.” Among them, he thought most about the future, often pondering when Goryeo would attack, though never as thoroughly as Deng She. Hearing his words, he saw the reason and changed his mind, taking the lead in obedience.

“General, please command.” Wen Huaguo and the others knelt in unison, accepting the order.

“Those who know me say I worry, those who don’t ask what I seek.” Deng She sighed, lowering his voice in exhaustion, “Gentlemen, I was just overwhelmed by anxiety—don’t take it to heart. Only united in resolve do we have a chance.”

Looking at the prostrate commanders, Deng She felt a heavy weight. He knew this was only the beginning of restoring discipline; once they could catch their breath, harsher measures would be unavoidable.

He dismounted, helped them up, and issued orders: “Order: Wen Huaguo, Chen Hu, and the three city battalions are to collect all women in the camps immediately. Only those without kin or home may serve as camp prostitutes, limited to one hundred. The rest are to be sent to the general’s office for dispersal home. From Wen, Chen and below, anyone hiding women is to be executed.

“Order: Any soldier possessing livestock is to sell it at fair price to the camp quartermaster for unified management. Order: Any soldier with silk, furniture, or items over one inch in length or one ounce in weight is forbidden to keep them privately; all must be surrendered for fair purchase by the treasury.”

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1. Belt: A sash used by men to fasten their clothing.
2. Women’s quarters: In palaces, a gate designated as a market, where women resided. “Seven hundred women’s quarters, Qi Huan collected funds for night gatherings to support the army, all widows.” “Guan Zi governed Qi, established seven hundred women’s quarters, collected funds for night gatherings to supplement the state, the origin of ‘powder money.’”

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