Chapter 623: The Sealed Marquis Tiger

The news that spread after the Beginning of Autumn in the first year of Xiangfu era shook the entire court and nation.

General Yang Shenxing, the great marshal of An’guo, faced an enemy force of less than ten thousand troops, yet his elite force of forty thousand from Ji’nan suffered repeated defeats. Initially, nearly half his cavalry was lost, and after retreating to Qingyang Basin, he found himself encircled and attacked from both front and rear. His cavalry was utterly annihilated. After this battle, Yang Shenxing, who had previously maintained a pristine reputation, became a pariah, akin to a rat scurrying through the streets. In Tai’an City, apart from the Ministry of War led by Lu Baijie, all five other ministries and the two censorial offices launched wave after wave of accusations against the old general, each with solid reasoning. They claimed he had disregarded the military orders of Supreme Commander Lu Shengxiang and recklessly marched southward. Once there, his decrepitude became evident—he failed to manage his troops properly and made muddled strategic decisions. Facing the insignificant remnants of the Western Chu, he was reduced to a state of utter incompetence. Where was the martial might of Liyang, the land that had previously known no defeat?

Unfazed by the turbulence in the imperial court, General Yang and his more than forty thousand still-intact infantry from Ji’nan found themselves trapped like an old turtle in a jar, a situation even he found absurd and laughable.

Despite his attempts to conceal it, the silver-haired general exuded the aura of age. His eldest son, Yang Huchen, survived the cavalry battle from ten days prior, but lost an arm. His grandson, Yang Wenqi, was gravely injured in a battle six days ago and still lay on his sickbed, reeking of medicinal herbs. Yang Shenxing had never fought a battle so stiflingly frustrating. The loss of Yang Huchen’s three thousand light cavalry failing to defeat a thousand enemy heavy cavalry was nothing extraordinary—after all, victory and defeat are common in war. Yang had underestimated the enemy and committed a grave military error, but he bore no great resentment. However, what followed nearly drove the great marshal into a murderous rage.

The three thousand elite troops, who had suffered minimal losses in the first cavalry engagement, after witnessing the might of the enemy’s heavy cavalry charge, demanded immediate withdrawal from the main force. They wished to cross Qingyang Basin and retreat northward to Qingshui Ferry. Yang Shenxing had no objection to this and merely suggested they withdraw gradually alongside the infantry to avoid being ambushed by the enemy’s considerable light cavalry. But to his dismay, those brats outwardly agreed but then fled north overnight with their personal guards. Upon learning this, Yang had no choice but to break camp and follow northward, ordering his grandson Yang Wenqi to dispatch nearly the entire remaining cavalry force to guard their rear. Yang could only hope that the Western Chu general in charge of the eastern campaign would fail to seize the opportunity of their separated infantry and cavalry. He even went so far as to feign an attack on Kuixiao Garrison to mislead the enemy.

Yet at dawn the next day, his grandson returned, drenched in blood, accompanied by only a few hundred cavalry from Ji’nan. The three thousand so-called elite troops, the root cause of the disaster, had survived unscathed. Yang Wenqi, his shoulder gouged with a large chunk of flesh missing, wept bitterly, explaining that the enemy cavalry excelled in night warfare. They had split into multiple columns, not only attacking the hastily prepared Ji’nan cavalry but also deliberately driving those three thousand useless riders southward to disrupt the formation. Yang Wenqi’s cavalry had no choice but to split into battalions of three hundred men, sacrificing themselves one after another to cover the retreat, protecting those two thousand eight hundred men who, though deserving of death, could not be allowed to perish.

After his grandson fainted from exhaustion, General Yang questioned several defeated cavalry commanders in detail. The more he listened, the more alarmed he became. According to their reports, the enemy cavalry not only excelled in night raids but also possessed exceptional archery skills, mimicking the outer hunting tactics of the Beimang barbarians. They neither closed in nor kept their distance, always maintaining a range of two arrows. They charged forward in a volley of arrows, then immediately withdrew, repeating this maneuver. Such tactics required an extremely high level of horsemanship and archery skill. Though this loosely coordinated guerrilla-style warfare wasn’t flawless, if Yang Wenqi had abandoned those three thousand cavalrymen, the losses wouldn’t have been so devastating.

Afterward, the Kuixiao front remained quiet. Only small squadrons of enemy cavalry patrolled far outside the encirclement, leisurely picking off Ji’nan scouts attempting to deliver intelligence. Worse still, whenever Yang Shenxing showed any signs of movement with his main force, the enemy quickly mobilized their cavalry to gather at Qingyang Basin behind him, with a thousand heavy cavalry waiting at a distance, ready to launch a devastating charge against the infantry.

At that moment, Yang Shenxing finally realized that the enemy commander had no intention of engaging his Ji’nan infantry in direct combat. Instead, he had anticipated Yang’s and those three thousand cavalrymen’s psychological states. First, he lured Yang’s cavalry into battle, immediately shaking their morale by terrifying the aristocratic youths with heavy cavalry. He had guessed these brats would flee recklessly, disregarding the overall situation, forcing the Ji’nan cavalry to protect them. Then, he used a slow, methodical approach to whittle away the cavalry forces. The enemy’s displayed combat capability did earn Yang’s respect, but the seasoned general was not afraid. The real defeat came from Yang’s necessity to take risks twice—first by deliberately offering military achievements, then by trying to save their lives—resulting in the near-total annihilation of Ji’nan’s cavalry force of over five thousand men.

Suffering a rare and devastating defeat, the veteran Ji’nan soldiers, personally trained by Yang Shenxing, did not cry or lament. Instead, they silently chose a location with dense river networks and abundant water sources to set up camp in an orderly manner. They dug three deep trenches, followed by embankments over two zhang high. Between the trenches, they cut down large quantities of sturdy tree trunks and branches, sharpened them, fixed their bases firmly into the ground, and arranged the tips upward after charring them with fire, interweaving and layering them continuously. The soil around the trenches was compacted. Sturdy watchtowers and tents rose from the ground. The Ji’nan army’s supplies were ample, not heavily reliant on the supply line behind them. The cavalry of the Liyang Kingdom, especially the elite forces in the late Spring and Autumn period, under the support of well-maintained The Post Road (postal roads), could march a hundred li in half a day while fully armed and armored. Light cavalry, even lighter equipped, could achieve an astonishing speed. Lu Shengxiang’s elite cavalry was once renowned for marching three hundred li in a day, surpassing even Chu Luxiang’s famed thousand riders opening the road to Shu. Of course, the latter had to traverse the treacherous Shu roads, and the Courier (postal riders) with ready replacements of men and horses were in a different category altogether.

Regardless of how many times the Civil Official (civil officials), who constantly complained about financial difficulties, reduced and dismantled the Posthouse (postal stations) across Liyang in recent years, the The Post Road (postal roads) in the southern outskirts of the capital remained passable. This was precisely Yang Shenxing’s confidence—he could simply wait for reinforcements without fear of being starved out, and there was no need for the Ji’nan army to resort to desperate measures.

Yet Yang Shenxing still felt utterly exhausted, more mentally drained than from actual battlefield combat. To pacify those wealthy aristocratic youths hiding and crying out for their fathers, the old general, already defeated and suffering great losses, dared not even speak harshly. He knew exactly why Lu Shengxiang’s military authority was so weak—because of the covert interference of those slippery civil officials in the capital. Mobilizing an army was not something a single general or even the Ministry of War alone could manage. Even the Ministry of Revenue, if it wished to delay, could find a dozen plausible excuses to slow down the marching schedule, all while leaving no room for rebuttal. The fathers of the thousand aristocratic youths from the capital had woven a treacherous web of mud within the Liyang court, preventing Lu Shengxiang from swiftly taking full command of the army. But once they learned of the disaster at Qingyang Basin and that their descendants were trapped, they could, overnight, ensure the smooth operation of the Six Ministries.

The reason Yang Shenxing had brought along that outwardly impressive but inwardly hollow cavalry unit was precisely because he understood the hidden dangers of the Liyang court better than anyone. However, he had not anticipated that the enemy commander would be so insidious and ruthless.

As Yang Shenxing had expected, in the imperial court of Taian City, although countless officials denounced him for his actual military failures, Minister of War Lu Baijie, who had been rendered powerless during this time, suddenly became the voice of authority. Those officials who had previously thought that sending Yang Shenxing with forty thousand troops and Yan Zhenshun with thirty thousand—totaling seventy thousand—was already an overreaction, a case of using a sledgehammer to kill a fly, now changed their tune overnight. They unanimously claimed that the Western Chu remnants were cunning and preparing for a desperate showdown north of Kuixiao. They demanded the dispatch of another experienced old general to the battlefield. As for Lu Shengxiang, as the commander-in-chief who had allowed Yang Shenxing’s unit to be encircled, his negligence was already grave. The only reason he had not been punished was because replacing a general on the battlefield was inadvisable.

Lu Baijie’s proposal was drowned out in the uproar of court discussions. Lu Shengxiang needed to redeem himself, but apart from the title of commander-in-chief, he had little actual force at his disposal. The true commander would remain Wu Jun, a cautious and seasoned general from the Spring and Autumn era, who would now lead thirty thousand elite troops from the capital’s Wujun forces.

Furthermore, under a secret order from the Ministry of War, Yan Zhenshun advanced rapidly from the eastern plains of Yudi, eventually halting near San’cang before turning eastward, creating the appearance of overwhelming force. This was to support Wu Jun’s thirty thousand troops, with Yan Zhenshun’s cavalry’s offensive or defensive actions still dependent on the Ministry of War’s orders.

※※※

Outside Youlu Pass, Lu Shengxiang remained blind to the southern movements of the Guangling forces, but the criticisms from the northern capital continuously reached his tent, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. Even the officers and lieutenants who had previously fawned over him daily at Youlu Pass had vanished without a trace in recent days.

Lu Shengxiang sat on the grass outside the camp, with Guo Dongfeng, who had recently been feeding horses, beside him. The latter, filled with anger, said, “Is this Tangxi Sword Immortal feasting on excrement? He’s now the Minister of War, yet his words are worth less than a fart!”

Lu Shengxiang replied calmly, “Lu Baijie still has a conscience. He even spoke a few fair words for me, suggesting I lead troops south.”

Guo Dongfeng sneered, “Conscience? Then why didn’t he say anything good about that old fool Yang Shenxing? Six thousand cavalry painstakingly accumulated over a decade, all wasted in less than ten days because of those aristocratic brats, and in the end, he doesn’t even receive a single word of praise.”

Lu Shengxiang smiled faintly, “Lu Baijie isn’t stupid, and those officials shouting in the court aren’t truly foolish either. Many things are one thing to understand in one’s heart, but another to say aloud. As long as Lu Baijie still wants to keep his position, he has no choice but to bear the burden and patch things up as best he can. If Gu Jiantang were in the Ministry of War, it wouldn’t be like this. Of course, if General Gu were in Tai’an City, there wouldn’t be a place for me, Lu Shengxiang, to rise either.”

Guo Dongfeng snorted, “The Western Chu commander must have water in his brain, treating the Kuixiao Garrison line as a battlefield for comparing military strength. Does he really think that defeating Yang Shenxing’s forty thousand Ji’nan infantry will solve everything?”

Lu Shengxiang glanced at Guo Dongfeng, “Are you also going to be as foolish as those court officials?”

Guo Dongfeng was taken aback, his face filled with shock, “So the Western Chu really intended to swallow Yan Zhenshun’s three thousand cavalry from the start? Can they even digest it? Yan Zhenshun isn’t that old fool Yang Shenxing. Won’t they choke to death? Could it be that Cao Changqing is going to personally take the field?”

Lu Shengxiang gazed into the distance, laughing coldly, “You’ll see, I have a feeling that this war will bring forth a few young men from the Western Chu who will become your future mortal enemies.”

Guo Dongfeng chuckled, “That’ll be great.”

※※※

Thirty li north of Sancang, Yan Zhenshun’s three thousand cavalry deliberately slowed their advance as they moved southward. A scout reported intelligence: five li ahead, a massive enemy force—purely light cavalry, no fewer than twenty thousand riders!

The vast plain stretched out like an endless battlefield.

Autumn winds howled, and banners fluttered in the wind.

Yan Lao Jiangjun, who rarely smiled, looked up at the crimson Yan character on his banner and then turned to gaze at his fearless Yan family warriors.

The old general said solemnly, “Raise the banners!”

Normally meant to command from the rear, General Yan Zhenshun now intended to lead the charge himself? Several trusted officers immediately stepped forward to stop him. Yan gripped his long spear, “Luye,” which had accompanied him through countless battles, and shook his head. “If we win, it will likely be my final battle—I cannot stand here watching. If we lose, it will also be my last. How can I die fleeing?”

Upon hearing this, the officers had no words to say.

The army advanced, the banners moving forward.

The enemy’s twenty thousand light cavalry did the same.

Yan Zhenshun led three thousand troops, against the wind. The Western Chu cavalry, two thousand strong, rode with the wind.

There were no advantageous slopes beneath their horses’ hooves, nor were there infantry formations.

The terrain was vast, allowing for a wide front line and the ability to deploy cavalry in waves. Thus, it could be said that the cavalry commanders on both sides would have the perfect opportunity to display their tactical brilliance, and the cavalry’s combat effectiveness could be fully demonstrated.

This was a battlefield where the weak would lose and the retreating would die.

There was no room for By sheer luck ( By sheer luck, By sheer luck).

Almost simultaneously, two horns sounded as if echoing each other, mournful and bleak.

Exactly alike, both sides’ first line of cavalry charged forward. After advancing more than half a horse length, the second line immediately followed with a fierce charge.

Each row of horses had nearly identical build and stride, ensuring that the speed of every cavalryman in the rear was not hindered.

The length of the battle lines was roughly equal, but Yan Zhenshun’s cavalry had a numerical advantage, giving them a deeper formation.

A few riders appeared suddenly on the distant flank of the charging armies, insignificant in the grand scheme. Neither man nor horse wore armor. Among them was the young man who had once climbed the Beacon Tower (watchtower) on Luohu Qiu with the Pei family’s Pei Sui—Xie Xichui.

It was precisely this obscure young man from a humble Western Chu background who dared to speak his mind before great figures like Cao Changqing and Sun Xiji, earning the nickname “Xie Half-Sentence” from Cao Changqing with a smile. This young man succinctly summarized the grand strategy of the Western Chu’s restoration into two simple tasks: “enduring blows” and “striking back.”

In fact, the entire northern campaign was decided by Xie Xichui’s single command.

From the last-minute capture of Kuixiao Garrison, to the subsequent luring of the enemy and night raids, to the siege without an attack—thus drawing the Liyang court into sending Yan Zhenshun’s cavalry to Sancang—until this very moment, when he watched from afar.

All of these were the fruits of his strategy.

A middle-aged, burly man sitting on a horse that towered a head above Xie Xichui asked gravely, “General Xie, do we really not need to deploy the three thousand heavy cavalry hidden behind? Do we really not need to issue orders for them to mount up and don their armor? Yan Zhenshun’s three thousand cavalry are no soft targets!”

Xie Xichui’s lips pressed tightly together as he shook his head. “Deploying the heavy cavalry too early or too late serves no purpose.”

Xie Xichui exhaled slowly, saying, “Besides, the death of two light cavalrymen is still a better bargain than the death of one heavy cavalryman. In fact, unless the heavy cavalry can secure an immediate victory, if we know that deploying them cannot change the tide of battle, then we can afford to let the two thousand light cavalry fight to the last man, shattering Yan Zhenshun’s cavalry’s morale and spirit. That would mean the battle is over. Otherwise, I’d rather not deploy a single light cavalryman and retreat with the heavy cavalry to prepare for the next cavalry battle!”

The burly man, glancing at this young commander whose name was certainly unknown in the Liyang court, smiled faintly.

This man was born in the birthplace of the founding emperor of the Great Chu Dynasty, a land once known for its saying, “Ten li, four feudal lords.” After the Great Chu Emperor ascended the throne, he enfeoffed over one hundred and sixty generals, and in that land alone, forty-six were enfeoffed!

There was a tradition in that land of sewing cloth “tiger figurines” for newborns, symbolizing the ancient saying, “Though a young tiger may not yet have stripes, it already possesses the might to devour an ox.”

But this young man, Xie Xichui, was no descendant of those renowned generals and enfeoffed lords.

But that didn’t matter, for he was the sole disciple of Cao Changqing.

Xie Xichui continued to observe the battle coldly. Half an hour passed, then an hour. The burly man and several others beside him were already drenched in sweat.

Xie Xichui lifted his buttocks slightly, stretched his neck to take a few glances, and silently murmured to himself.

Still waiting.

Several men who had participated in the Spring and Autumn wars grew visibly anxious.

On the battlefield, their side had already lost five thousand cavalry, while Yan Zhenshun had lost over six thousand.

In a battle where neither side had retreated or been defeated, such massive casualties, with both sides continuing to fight to the death, were simply horrifying. In cavalry battles, true casualties often occurred only when one side broke and fled, leading to a sudden surge in deaths.

The sweating burly man tugged at his collar and slammed his fist heavily on his horse’s back.

Xie Xichui remained expressionless.

The burly man glanced at the sky and said softly, “General Xie, if we keep trading lives like this, we’ll lose!”

Xie Xichui merely nodded slightly, still unmoved.

Another man shouted angrily, “I’m going to deploy the heavy cavalry myself! I don’t have your iron heart, Xie Xichui!”

Xie Xichui merely said, “Oh,” calmly. “Wei Hong, if you dare to go, I will personally execute you.”

The man gritted his teeth, “With your three-legged-cat skills?!”

Not far away, a clean-faced youth carrying four swords on his back hesitated briefly before coldly saying, “I, Lü Sichu, can kill you.”

The man roared, “Lü Sichu, don’t think I fear you just because your grandfather is Lü Dantian!”

Xie Xichui said indifferently, “I’ve already said, either Yan Zhenshun must fall, or the spirit of Yan’s cavalry must be broken in half before we enter the fray. You may disregard Lü Dantian’s status as the greatest swordsman in Great Chu, but since you are a soldier under my command, you must obey military orders. If you wish to die, I won’t stop you, but please die on the battlefield later, beneath the hooves of Liyang cavalry.”

The fierce man angrily rubbed his face and spat sideways, “If we lose this battle, I’ll personally whip you to death, even if it means disobeying orders!”

After an unbearably long half-hour, Xie Xichui said solemnly, “Liu Cong, Wei Hong, listen to my orders!”

Wei Hong cursed, turned his horse wildly, “Listen to your mother’s orders! I’m going to kill the enemy now. If we win, you can whip me to death later!”

The burly man named Liu Cong saluted and rode off.

Xie Xichui spoke each word slowly and clearly, “Remember, leave no prisoners!”