In the grand hall of the Protectorate, Yan Wenluan gazed at the young man seated at the head of the chamber, clad in a black robe embroidered with golden serpents. For reasons unknown, his thoughts drifted—recalling the days when the Great General first donned the blue satin robe of the Prince of Liang. Yan and Zhong Hongwu, Liu Yuanji, and others had eagerly reached out to feel the fabric. But now, Zhong Hongwu was dead, Wei Tieshan and Liu Yuanji had retired from the military to live out their days at home. Of the younger generation, only half of the Great General’s six adopted sons remained. As a key figure in Zhao Changling’s faction, Yan held great hopes for Chen Zhibao. In his heart, the finest day for Beiliang would be when Xu Fengnian ruled Liangzhou and Chen Zhibao waged war beyond the frontier. That day, alas, would never come in his lifetime.
Yan Wenluan returned his focus. Xu Fengnian was now questioning Culu Shan about the movements of the Northern Liang’s main forces. But even Culu Shan could not provide a definite answer. Despite heavy losses among Beiliang’s spies and scouts, Dong Zhuo’s erratic troop deployments had left the Protectorate utterly baffled. It was like a Heaven’s Phenomenon cultivator facing an Inferior Sage cultivator—superior in strength, yet refusing to strike openly, nor resorting to underhanded tactics. Instead, Dong Zhuo had thrown punches wildly on his own turf, unafraid of disrupting his own formation.
Xu Fengnian joked, “A massive redeployment of hundreds of thousands of troops is no small matter. It demands astronomical amounts of grain and military funds to support. Is Dong Fatso showing off his wealth to us in Beiliang?”
Gu Dazu, one of the border generals, had a more straightforward relationship with the new Prince of Liang compared to the three venerable generals—Yan Wenluan, Chen Yunchui, and He Zhonghu. After all, he had met Xu Fengnian beyond the borders of Beiliang, as a guest invited by the young prince. Thus, he spoke with more freedom and now chuckled in agreement, “It’s not really his own wealth to squander anyway.”
Culu Shan interlaced his fingers before his chest, resting his thick arms on the chair’s armrests, eyes narrowing slightly as if muttering to himself.
Xu Fengnian turned to Gu Dazu, who, without being prompted, straightened his posture and said knowingly, “Your Highness is asking whether we can take the fight beyond our borders?”
Xu Fengnian nodded. The fall of the old Southern Tang Kingdom had stemmed from surrendering all battlefield initiative to Gu Jiantang. Their elite forces had huddled within their borders, leading first to the destruction of their navy, and then to inevitable defeat. Had Gu Dazu’s strategy been followed, Gu Jiantang would have paid dearly—costing him at least two hundred thousand casualties—and more importantly, the Southern Tang could have cultivated a spirit of resilience, unafraid of a final stand. The lesson was clear: Beiliang boasted thirty thousand cavalry, though not all thirty thousand were true horsemen—barely half that number. Yet even with fifteen thousand horsemen and an astonishing reserve of tens of thousands of warhorses, Beiliang had the confidence to stand against the Northern Liang. If not for internal concerns and lack of imperial support, this unrivaled cavalry force could have taken the initiative on the northwestern frontier, striking where opportunity arose. With its relatively small territory compared to the Northern Liang’s southern provinces, Beiliang could strike from all directions, maintaining superiority on any single battlefield. Even if the cavalry were equal or slightly inferior in numbers, they could still devour the enemy whole, then resupply and move on to the next battlefield.
But the current predicament was clear—the imperial court had chosen to remain a passive observer. Not only was there no retreat in the Xishu direction, but with the unrest in Jizhou and Yuan Tingshan’s rise as a local warlord there, even Beiliang’s right flank had become a potential threat. Gu Jiantang might not have been able to plant spies within Beiliang, but manipulating things between the Liaodong and Beiliang fronts was still well within his reach.
Gu Dazu smirked, playing coy. “It’s not impossible. It all depends on whether Beiliang has the courage.”
Yan Wenluan smiled. “Two days ago, General Gu mentioned an idea—basically, with the current forces in Youzhou, holding the Hulukou Pass is no problem. The infantry there is more than capable. That would free up over three thousand cavalry, which could then sweep through Jizhou, giving Beiliang more strategic flexibility. Then, no matter how the battles in Liangzhou or Youzhou unfolded, those three thousand light cavalry could swing in an arc, directly piercing Longyao Province. In this way, Beiliang wouldn’t be stuck in a purely defensive position. But Jizhou…”
Yan Wenluan deliberately left the sentence hanging. He Zhonghu and Chen Yunchui exchanged glances before turning to Xu Fengnian. Since the beginning of the Xiangfu era, the current emperor had displayed a baffling attitude. Even with Yang Shenxing’s setbacks and the complete annihilation of Yan Zhanchun’s cavalry, the emperor had shown little anger. Though Marshal Lu Shengxiang’s position had been precarious, it was not due to battlefield failures but rather had been tenuous from the start. Now, it even seemed to be stabilizing. After Yan Zhanchun’s death, the emperor had honored him with the posthumous title of Wujie, ennobled him as the Marquis of Jingzhong, and promoted his only son, Yan Dada, to a higher rank. Yang Shenxing, trapped and disgraced, had apparently sent a secret memorial that further fueled the impeachment of Chancellor Zhang Julu by the censor Jin Lanting, likely saving the Yang family’s lives and possibly allowing them to return to Jizhou in the future. Compared to the worsening situation in the Guangling Circuit, the emperor had clearly focused more attention on the seemingly tranquil Jizhou. Many memorials bore his personal red ink annotations. Though outsiders were puzzled, the Beiliang leadership—especially Yan Wenluan and the military elders—understood well. The emperor’s concern for the remnants of the Xichu rebels under Cao Changqing, who operated under his very nose, paled in comparison to his suspicion of the distant Beiliang cavalry.
Xu Fengnian did not answer directly. He said softly, “Chen Zhibao’s severing of the western front of Liyang was likely Yuan Benxi’s first move in his grand strategy. The second move is to let Jizhou press forward step by step. Yang Shenxing was never up to the task of balancing Beiliang. With only a few thousand old soldiers in southern Jizhou, he could do little to counter Beiliang. So the court sent him to Guangling to fail, leaving Jizhou’s local forces hollowed out. Taking advantage of this, the court needed a new, trustworthy figure to fill the void—one who could command respect and dare to challenge Beiliang. Yuan the Mad Dog’s meteoric rise was no accident. It was a deal between Yuan Benxi and Gu Jiantang. Yuan could further restrict Beiliang’s movements, while Gu could focus more confidently on the eastern front. A win-win situation.”
Gu Dazu sneered, “That mad dog must be desperate for power. Do you think the seat of Jizhou’s governor is so easy to claim? If Beiliang truly cannot hold, Jizhou is even softer than Xishu—it will be the first to be riddled with Northern Liang arrows. Otherwise, why wouldn’t Gu Jiantang send his own son to Jizhou? Even if Yuan Tingshan is Gu’s son-in-law, can he really be compared to a real son?”
Culu Shan chuckled, “Fortune favors the bold. Small fry always bet big on the gambling table, not fearing ruin. Come to think of it, when we followed our adoptive father from north to south, we also threw ourselves into death before finding life. Yuan Tingshan may not be likable, but he’s definitely interesting.”
Xu Fengnian suddenly turned to Yan Wenluan. “General Yan, assuming you had only infantry in Youzhou, how many Northern Liang troops could you hold off?”
Yan Wenluan answered without hesitation, “A single Hulukou Pass outside Damaguan could contain over one hundred and fifty thousand Northern Liang troops. With Generals Honglu Cao Xiaojiao and Hong Xinjia working together, Youzhou’s forces could defend or attack at will. Within Youzhou itself, Hu Kui and Huangfu Ping are stationed. Thirty thousand infantry from Youzhou can hold off thirty thousand Northern Liang troops—no problem. But of course, this defense has a time limit. However, that time is enough for three thousand cavalry to either reinforce in an emergency or launch an offensive.”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “Then that’s settled. These three thousand light cavalry will enter Jizhou starting today.”
Old General Chen Yunchui’s eyes lit up. “Shall we not inform the imperial court?”
Xu Fengnian countered, “We’re just sending two or three thousand cavalry to Jizhou for training and drills. Do we really need to make a formal announcement? That would be too formal, wouldn’t it? Besides, the court will find out eventually—so isn’t that the same as informing them? At most, we’ll just submit a document to the Ministry of War afterward.”
Sitting beside Xu Fengnian, Xu Wei Xiong softly laughed. “Clearly, Beiliang is still being reasonable.”
Chen Yunchui barely suppressed a grin, while He Zhonghu, equally pleased, couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Your Highness, three thousand versus thirty thousand—that’s quite a difference.”
He Zhonghu waved his hand. “Three thousand versus thirty thousand is a difference of twenty-seven thousand, not three hundred thousand. Who cares about such details? Besides, the Minister of War, Lu Shangshu, is practically a relative of yours. Whether he favors you or justice, the Sword Immortal of Tangxi seems bound to take your side.”
Xu Fengnian rubbed his face and asked, “This cavalry unit has always been led by scattered officers and commanders. Once in Jizhou, who will command them? Does anyone have a suitable candidate?”
As the commander of Beiliang’s 160,000 infantry, Yan Wenluan should not have interfered—it was a matter for the cavalry. Yuan Zuozong and Culu Shan could speak, even some infantry officers could voice opinions. But Yan Wenluan, as a renowned general of the Spring and Autumn era, held too prominent a position and should have remained silent. Yet Yan still spoke his mind. “I have two candidates, one for commander and one for deputy. The commander must be unconventional in tactics, while the deputy should be more cautious and conventional, balancing the two so the cavalry unit doesn’t limp. My subordinate Zhong Tianheng can serve as deputy. As for the commander, it’s up to the Prince to appoint someone outside the usual ranks.”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “Please, General, speak freely.”
Yan Wenluan glanced at Culu Shan. “That would require borrowing someone from Culu.”
Culu Shan’s eyes widened. “Not a chance! Not for anything! That boy is indispensable to the Protectorate, my right-hand man. I still need him to do great things!”
Xu Fengnian was naturally puzzled—who was this exceptional figure that both Culu and Yan had their eyes on?
Yan Wenluan snorted, “It’s not me borrowing him from you—it’s the Prince borrowing him from you!”
Xu Wei Xiong said calmly, “Yu Luandao is indeed capable of leading this cavalry unit.”
Xu Fengnian suddenly understood.
Culu Shan’s face fell as if he’d just been skinned alive. He sighed heavily.
Xu Fengnian smiled. “Then it’s settled. Let’s take a look at the maps of Jizhou and discuss how these thirty thousand troops will move.”
The group gathered around the table where maps had already been laid out—one showing the entire geography of Jizhou, the other focusing on the western regions. In the Beiliang military, such maps were abundant.
As Xu Fengnian sent someone to summon Yu Luandao, he stood before the table, scanning the room. Suddenly, he spoke in a low, firm voice. “From today on, Beiliang will do as it must. If the imperial court or Jizhou dare to interfere, we will cut off their hands and feet. From now on, if we clash with any force outside Beiliang’s borders, there’s no need to inform the Qingliang Mountain Mansion beforehand. Act first, and the Mansion will handle the aftermath.”
The old generals—Yan Wenluan, Chen Yunchui, and others—exhaled almost in unison.
At last, they could openly release the resentment they had held toward the imperial court for nearly twenty years.
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