Homeward (5)
The Yan army—more precisely, the Liaodong army—was not composed solely of Han people. While the vast majority hailed from You and Ji provinces, a considerable number of recruits had come knocking from the many regions tied to Liaodong through the salt cartel. Some enlisted for the pay the Liaodong forces offered. Others came to learn their elite methods. Still others joined to fulfill a man’s dream of belonging to an undefeated army that rose above all others.
To implement its signature mission-type command system, the Liaodong army required linguistic unity. Naturally, among the illiterate bumpkins who couldn’t read a single character, there were those who had come specifically to learn. Every one of those selected became an A-class recruit, but among them were a handful of standouts who surpassed even A-rank and reached S-class. And most of those S-class soldiers were funneled into the cavalry and mountain regiments.
Then, among even those carefully chosen S-class recruits, the truly exceptional ones would one day receive a single letter. The envelope bore no sender, only their three-character name. Inside was an address located deep within the territory of the northern nomads. Those who found the location using only their own strength were assigned to a unit that most people in Liaodong had never even heard of.
Due to societal taboos, the 4th Battalion was officially said not to exist. But a man who had lived in the twenty-first century had no reason to respect such superstitions, and thanks to the very taboo that surrounded it, the 4th Battalion had successfully hidden itself in plain sight.
They had purchased saddles for dozens of gold guan each and Go stones carved from elephant ivory for hundreds of guan. The “price differentials” collected by the merchants were immediately funneled into the 4th Battalion’s budget. The headquarters built with those unaccounted funds stood in the middle of the great steppe, the domain of the northern nomads.
Since the battalion members were scattered across the country, the headquarters building itself was not particularly large. It was also moved periodically in accordance with the laws of the steppe. Therefore, anyone not assigned to the unit would never imagine that this small nomadic village was a hidden detachment of the Yan army.
And the people gathered inside that nomadic building were figures that anyone living in this era would have heard of at least once. Dadun, chieftain of the Wuhuan. Jera-hu, younger brother of Gabinung and a Xianbei general who served as Gongsun Zan’s personal guard. An-ryu of Goguryeo. Akhadang, operator of the salt network. Obo and Beon-a, disciples of Hua Tuo. And so on.
Not all of them were commanders capable of facing ten thousand men alone, but each in their own way knew how to create ten thousand corpses. The nomadic horse archers, who frequently switched employers as guest generals under various warlords, maintained their own networks and kept the battalion informed of frontline conditions. Thanks to Dadun, the Wuhuan chieftain, the entire situation in the Central Plains could be grasped at a glance from a single seat.
“The Bingzhou army has attacked Pingyuan… I suppose I should send a letter to my elder brother.”
“What about our preemptive response, sir?”
“A report comes first. A hand must not try to do the head’s job.”
The title “elder” suited Dadun well; his hair had already begun to turn white. Having spent his entire life on horseback without stirrups, his body was free of even an ounce of fat. His face, half-hidden by a beard, was covered entirely in scars. In fact, every patch of skin not covered by clothing bore scars. To grow old on the steppe meant one had survived, and to survive on the steppe meant one was strong.
Some said it was not the strong who survived but the survivors who became strong. Yet on the steppe, at least, the strong took everything. The absolute ruler of the eastern steppe had, a few years earlier, been defeated by a mere merchant named Gongsun Zan. Following the laws of the steppe, he had become the man’s subordinate.
He still didn’t quite understand how a scholar from You Province knew the laws of the steppe, but the heavens’ Tengri often produced heroes beyond mortal comprehension. So Dadun simply accepted that Gongsun Zan, now the great elder of the Wuhuan, must be one such hero born of Tengri.
It seemed the scholars of the Central Plains had reached the same conclusion. Centered around Jia Xu of the Research Institute, they were conducting a most admirable campaign to enthrone the great elder who had received the Mandate of Heaven as emperor. As the elder of the Wuhuan, Dadun therefore operated the 4th Special Task Force in accordance with the orders of his new chieftain, Gongsun Zan.
In his long life filled with struggle, anyone who was not the leader daring to interpret the leader’s will was simply shortening their own lifespan.
“For now, Akhadang and Obo. Take your direct-action teams and move to Pingyuan. Treat the wounded and gauge the local sentiment according to the White Operation plan. Jera-hu, deliver this letter to His Excellency immediately… then proceed to the Xianbei Empire and make sure those idiots don’t do anything stupid.”
““Understood.””
“After that, act according to His Excellency’s commands. Dismissed.”
This unit had no motto. It had no insignia. Its name did not appear on the Yan army’s rolls. Because the headquarters itself wandered across the steppe, it was nearly impossible to locate. The ways of the steppe could only be understood by nomads; any Central Plains scholar foolish enough to come looking would surely be stripped down to his underwear by some lucky horse herder and sent home naked.
1. Akhadang and Obo — proceed to Pingyuan with direct-action teams. Provide medical support and execute White Operation.
2. Jera-hu — deliver sealed letter to His Excellency, then proceed to Xianbei Empire and restrain impulsive elements.
3. All further action per His Excellency’s command.
From the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, the woman was blazing red. Hualian smiled faintly as she read the letter her subordinate had delivered.
She had already been wandering these frozen lands—where ice remained even in midsummer—for several months. The bitter cold that could freeze even hot breath was approaching. Winter on the steppe was equally merciless, but for her and her warriors, such cold was no great obstacle. Winter was the season of plunder.
“The strongest bastard in Bingzhou has lost his mind. He killed Yuan Shao’s fox of a brother and crawled under Dong Zhuo?”
“Yes. According to the letter, Dong Zhuo’s army has seized control of the Han government and secured the emperor.”
“Good. That old man Dong Zhuo is no vessel for an emperor. The Central Plains will soon be set ablaze. Burning bright red.”
“Shall we return?”
“Yes. I have no desire to associate with those lunatics who believe they’ll go to heaven if they die in battle. We’ve killed enough of them by now that the man should have vented all his anger, don’t you think?”
The bitter cold of these frozen lands posed no problem for the Xianbei warriors who roamed the harsh steppe. However, the madmen who lived in this frozen wasteland were enough to make even Hualian sick to her stomach. No matter how many she slaughtered, they came swarming like dogs. The insane cult that taught one must die in battle to reach paradise was so grotesque that even Hualian, who had lived her life racing across the wild steppe, found it repulsive.
Having come here lightly, both to avenge her former fiancé and to relieve her boredom, she had no desire to waste any more time.
“The Nanji Chanyu is still alive…”
“That worthless bastard who was only good at riding can’t ride anymore. Is that living or dying?”
“…”
“Ah, whatever. We’re going back! Hey, everyone! Let’s go home! It’s too cold to stay here!”
Early winter of 190. At a time when Gongsun Zan was still soaring through the skies with the emperor, she and the forty thousand cavalry who followed her halted their westward advance and turned back toward the Central Plains.
Many warriors who had suddenly appeared from the east, turned the eastern part of their territory into scorched earth, and then vanished just as suddenly, believed the woman clad in red from head to toe was the incarnation of the fire giant Surtr. But she knew nothing of ancient Germanic and cared even less, so it was none of her concern.
“Oh, and tell the ones we left planted in Bingzhou to scratch that Lu Bu bastard’s nerves a little. If you poke that golden horse the right way, he’s the kind of lunatic who’ll cut off Dong Zhuo’s head.”
“Is he a traitor by nature?”
“If only it were that simple. That man has the face of someone who will kill his own superior. Or make him want to die… He is a monstrous rebel who must never be embraced.”
She had confirmed the progress of the barbed wire research, relieved the emperor’s pent-up feelings, and now the only thing left was to go home and spend the night with her family.
On the way back, she stopped by the forest and bought a few rabbits from the hunters. When she returned home, Jinjeong greeted her as always.
“You’re back early. I thought you wouldn’t return until spring.”
“How long could it possibly take? I just had to slip the emperor out for a bit.”
“Normally, that kind of ‘slipping out’ isn’t so simple, is it?”
“Ahem… I’m not exactly an ordinary person.”
“Un-i went on a field trip with Researcher Deokjo for a few days.”
“In this freezing weather?”
“It’s the slack farming season, and bears and tigers are hibernating. Apparently it’s the best time to learn the laws of nature while hunting rabbits. Young Master Wol (Gongsun Wol, Gongsun Zan’s cousin) went along as both escort and supervisor, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”
“How many went?”
“Un-i, three children Researcher Deokjo was personally teaching, and Jeong-i. Five in total.”
The researchers usually taught people as a side job. The tuition was little more than a few rice cakes or bottles of liquor, so it was closer to volunteer work than a true side job. Still, one of the duties of a scholar was the moral education of the people, so teaching others in their spare time was literally both their hobby and their religious practice.
“Wait a moment. Isn’t Deokjo supposed to be in charge of the barbed wire research?”
“He apparently took vacation during the field trip period.”
Did he? Gongsun Zan couldn’t quite remember. Honestly, there weren’t just one or two researchers, and matters like approving leave never reached his desk.
“So it’s just the two of us.”
“…Now that I think about it, it really has been a long time since we spent a night alone.”
“It’s not just a long time. It’s the first time since we got married. After you left to study mathematics with Master No, you came back with Un-i in tow.”
“K-khm…”
“You said you wouldn’t avoid having children, yet you only show your face once per season because of state affairs. I thought I would grow old and die alone in an empty house.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So… when do you plan on having a child?”
He still felt a little uneasy. Originally, once this matter was finished, the chaotic age should have ended as well, and he had intended to have children and devote himself to family life. But from what he remembered of the moment his mind had gone blank, it seemed some memories of his death still remained.
Yet looking into her eyes, he could not bring himself to say, “Let’s talk about it later.”
He was now thirty. She too was at the very end of her mid-twenties. One might ask what was wrong with not having children at that age, but in this era, it was indeed a problem. Moreover, having risen to the position of Duke of a nation, he could no longer put off the duties of a family head simply to follow his own thoughts.
“I’ve been sorry all this time… Let’s do it. Let’s have a child.”
“You don’t have to force yourself.”
“You were the one forcing yourself. The age of chaos is over. From now on, I will live faithfully for my family.”
The fortress line at Pingyuan had been completed. Without cannons, there was no way to break through those defenses. Once mass production of barbed wire began next year, the numbers of conscripted soldiers without armor would become meaningless.
The emperor had set foot in Yan. Dong Zhuo, now forced to play the role of lubricant for the entire empire that the Grand General once held, would have no leisure to look elsewhere. Yuan Shu of Jingzhou lacked the ability to aim for the world, and Liu Yan of Yizhou lacked the ambition to scheme for it. Unlike the stories he had heard on the internet, Cao Cao was a warlord who still held loyalty to the Han. Liu Bei had become his close younger sister. Tao Qian of Xuzhou and Gong Rong of Qingzhou were both suppressed by his and Cao Cao’s territories and had no way to expand into the Central Plains.
If they didn’t want to wither away, they had to stay on good terms with Yan. Yangzhou and Jiaozhou south of the Yangtze were nothing but pure jungle; nothing significant could arise there.
The age of chaos was over.
All that remained was to live out the rest of his days as the Northern Grand Duke.
He reached out, gently cupped the back of Jinjeong’s head, and kissed her. With a soft rustle, her robes came undone.
For the first time in a very long while, he did not dream at all.