The Intensifying Battle for Hanzhong
Having finished my engagement with Cao Zhang, I first stopped by Liu Feng's camp to see how he was faring.
"Is General Liu Feng all right?"
"Yes. He has been treated and is resting now. Thanks to you, General Jin, his injuries weren't serious. He asked me to convey his deepest gratitude."
His adjutant received me in his place, saying he needed to rest. Still, it was a relief to hear that his wounds were not grave.
Once I had confirmed he was fine, I returned to Zhang Fei's camp. (Though I was currently leading a small cavalry detachment on semi-independent guerrilla operations, I was still formally Zhang Fei's subordinate officer.)
"General Jin. I heard you went a round with Cao Zhang. Sent him packing with his tail between his legs, did you? As expected of your skill… Wait. Hold on. Are you hurt?"
"Ah…"
Zhang Fei broke off mid-sentence and stared at me with wide eyes.
In truth, I had taken a few light wounds fighting Cao Zhang — at the nape of my neck, on my shoulder, and elsewhere. A thin red line traced across my neck, and several places on my shoulder armor had been torn open. All of them were scrapes from dodging his attacks. They were nothing more than scratches, nothing to truly worry about.
Had I not used that spur-of-the-moment stratagem, I might not even be standing here intact.
"They're just scratches. Nothing worth fretting over."
"Hmm. Good. Thank heaven for that much. Still, get yourself treated by the army physician and rest for the day. If anything were to happen to you, I wouldn't be able to face my elder brother or General Jin Do."
"Yes, General."
I had my wounds simply dressed and retired to my tent.
The first person who had nearly handed me a defeat. Had I not resorted to that unconventional attack, I would not be lying here so comfortably now.
I had sparred several times with our own generals — Zhao Yun, Zhang Fei, and others. But those had only ever been sparring matches; we had never fought each other to the death.
I had thought I had grown considerably stronger, yet I was reminded how far I still had to go.
Lying there, I replayed his spear techniques and skills over and over in my mind.
Wei army camp.
Having returned to his own lines, Cao Zhang had his wounds treated and was lying in his tent. The injuries were not fatal, but an arrow through the shoulder and a fall from his horse meant the damage was far from light. For some time, he would have no choice but to devote himself entirely to recovery.
Jin Cheong, was it? For a woman — no, man or woman, she was a warrior of remarkable caliber.
He lay there replaying their duel. In spear technique, he had held a slight edge. But the shot she had loosed while feigning flight — spinning her body mid-escape, dodging his strike in the same motion — had exceeded all his expectations.
He was skilled with a bow himself, yet in mounted archery she was a cut above him.
To look at her, she was a refined young woman. But by martial skill alone, few among the Wei generals who had come to Hanzhong could match her. It would take someone of General Xiahou Yuan's level to face her as an equal.
Still — next time they met, he would claim victory without fail.
Recalling the dream he had nurtured since childhood, Cao Zhang quietly stoked the fire of his fighting spirit.
"Younger brother, are you in?"
Cao Pi's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Ah, Elder Brother Pi. You've come."
"Stay as you are. Your body is not whole."
The man who entered, lifting the tent flap, was his elder brother — Cao Cao's eldest son, Cao Pi.
"Elder Brother. What brings you here?"
"My younger brother is wounded. Is it not natural for an elder brother to pay a sick call?"
"Then I shall be shameless and remain lying down."
"Yes, yes. Rest easy. I will not stay long."
A smile played on Cao Pi's lips as he spoke with apparent good humor. But though his face smiled, a faint sneer lingered at the corners of his eyes.
Cao Zhang was not unaware. The visit was nominally a sick call, but inwardly his brother was surely mocking him. His elder brother had never been a man of kind disposition.
But what could he do? A brother had come to inquire after him; he could hardly throw him out.
"So. How are the wounds?"
"Nothing too serious. But it seems I will be unable to take the field for some time."
"Tsk, tsk."
Cao Pi clicked his tongue.
"You came here with great ambitions, and yet to be laid low at the very start of the war… At this rate, I fear you may not get a single chance to swing your spear before the fighting ends. This elder brother of yours finds it truly pitiful."
"…Do not concern yourself. I will be up and about soon enough."
Just as expected. Under the guise of consolation, he was probing Cao Zhang's most tender spot.
In truth, that was Cao Zhang's greatest worry as well — that his injuries would not heal before the war ended, and he would never again find an opportunity to fight.
"Come to think of it, you said you revere Wei Qing and Huo Qubing, did you not? High aims, to be sure — but keep taking the field, and someday you will get there, no? There ought to be some reward for abandoning your studies to hone your martial arts, should there not?"
That much was true. While Cao Pi, Cao Zhi, and the others studied letters, Cao Zhang alone had taken up the spear instead. Those had been his own words at the time.
I wish to build military merit like Wei Qing or Huo Qubing. I have no desire for book learning!
From childhood, Cao Zhang had been devoted to martial arts rather than scholarship. And not once had he regretted that decision. Even now, lying wounded, his resolve to walk the path of the warrior remained unshaken.
Yet his elder brother, seeing straight through to his heart, was needling him with barbed words. Still, Cao Zhang had no wish to quarrel. Whatever else, this man was his brother.
"Elder Brother. I am rather tired. Would you leave me to rest alone?"
"Ah, of course. It seems I spoke out of turn."
Cao Pi rose with a mean smile, then appeared to remember something and continued.
"Ah, yes. You were defeated by that woman Jin Cheong, were you not? I hear you fell to her mounted archery. Well? Shall this elder brother avenge you in your stead? I am rather confident myself when it comes to bow and horse."
In truth, Cao Pi had a quiet tendency to show off his own martial skill. He often boasted of his talent for shooting from horseback, and he had once bragged that at the age of ten, in Wancheng, his excellent horsemanship had saved him from disaster.
Wancheng, of all places — the city where Cao Cao himself had nearly met with catastrophe, and where their eldest brother Cao Ang had lost his life. A place of painful memory. And yet Cao Pi would occasionally drag it out for self-aggrandizement.
It was true that Cao Pi possessed a certain aptitude for martial arts. But to Cao Zhang, born a warrior to the bone, it was nothing extraordinary. Against a fighter of Jin Cheong's caliber, his life would not be guaranteed.
Moreover, having just been bested by Jin Cheong's horsemanship and archery, Cao Zhang could hear those words as nothing but mockery.
He drew a stifled breath and spoke.
"Do not, Elder Brother. That female general's skill is no ordinary thing. If you go out rashly, it could end badly. Once I am healed, I will face her again myself…"
"Is that so? You may fight her again, but I must not step forward? Are you looking down on my ability?"
"…That is not what I meant…"
"Then what did you mean?"
"I have no intention of belittling your skill. I only mean that if you encounter her, you must be especially careful. Will you leave me be? I need to rest now."
"Very well. Rest well and recover quickly."
Cao Pi left the tent with a thin smile, and Cao Zhang let out a long sigh. The stifling feeling in his chest did not ease.
As his arrow-struck shoulder throbbed, Cao Zhang composed himself and closed his eyes. In the darkness, a single face rose before him.
Jin Cheong. The female general who had dealt him a defeat he had never imagined. He replayed their battle once more.
He vowed to settle this debt in the next fight — and little by little, his heart found its calm again.
The struggle for Hanzhong grew fiercer by the day. Early on, we had enjoyed considerable success with small cavalry thrusts that exploited the terrain, but that approach was no longer so effective.
Just as when they had intercepted Liu Feng, the enemy was now skillfully countering our surprise attacks.
Cao Cao's forces outnumbered ours, so we continued to avoid large-scale frontal engagements and pressed on with small-unit actions that made use of the ground. The topographic advantage was still ours.
Amid all this, word of a victory reached me.
"General Ma Chao has taken the head of the enemy general Yan Xing."
Yan Xing. The fierce general who had led Cao Cao's vanguard and once saved Xiahou Yuan from the brink of death.
Yan Xing went unmentioned in the Romance, so one might easily dismiss him as a minor officer — but the historical records showed him to be a formidable commander. The fact that he had nearly killed Ma Chao in battle was particularly striking.
The records were sparse, so the exact circumstances of that near-killing remained unclear.
In any case, in this world, Ma Chao had killed Yan Xing. Perhaps he had settled a grudge from his youth.
The full account of the battle ran as follows.
Yan Xing had led his troops forward and taunted Ma Chao thus:
"I have come today to collect the head I left behind last time!"
Recalling his defeat in younger days, Ma Chao had flown into a rage and nearly charged out. But Fa Zheng, recognizing the trap, held him back.
"This is surely a ploy to lure the General out."
Fa Zheng calmly analyzed the terrain, saw through Yan Xing's scheme, and devised a plan to turn it against him.
The next day, Ma Chao feigned fury and gave chase when Yan Xing returned to mock him. As expected, it was a trap. Ambush troops already in place closed in to seize him.
But by Fa Zheng's stratagem, Wei Yan, Huang Zhong, and other generals reverse-encircled them instead, shattering Yan Xing's forces.
Ma Chao used the breakthrough power of the tribal cavalry he had brought under his banner to thin Yan Xing's encirclement, then engaged him in single combat — and at last succeeded in taking his head. A settling of old scores from his youth, one might say.
Yan Xing's subordinate officers Cheng Gongying and Yang Qiu were said to have fallen to Wei Yan and Huang Zhong respectively.
I had been inwardly anxious ever since Cao Cao's reinforcements arrived, so it was a relief to see things gradually turning in our favor.
And I, too, was preparing for the battle that would come again.