Moling (4)
Expecting that the Shanyue tribe would come crashing down on us sooner or later if we simply sat camped outside Moling, I saw no reason to order a reckless assault on the walls.
If we could truly have taken the city in the blink of an eye, then marching straight in and fighting a defensive battle from within would have made for a fine strategy. But everyone knew siege warfare was never that simple an affair. A rash attack could waste soldiers' lives for nothing, only for the Shanyue to descend on us from every direction — the worst possible outcome. They were already remarkably quick on their feet as it was.
Intimately familiar with Jiangdong's terrain and privy to shortcuts even we didn't know, there was no telling when or where they might appear.
...No, wait — it wasn't as if we were entirely in the dark.
Our little strategists seemed to have mastered geography along with everything else; one sweeping glance at the surrounding landscape, and they could predict exactly where the enemy would come pouring in from. When I voiced my astonishment, Sima Yi had said this:
"There are plenty of routes the enemy could attack along."
"......"
"But their commander thinks so simply that I can predict every last place he'll pop up."
It was a scathing assessment — had that self-proclaimed King of Virtue of Eastern Wu heard it himself, it would have wounded him deeply. She had softened it to "simple-minded," but it amounted to calling him a flat-out idiot.
Then again, that was the image that came to mind at the mention of Yan Baihu. Even in that famous series of Three Kingdoms games, his faction sits proudly among the highest-difficulty ones, doesn't it?
Over its several centuries of history, the Han had weathered every manner of rebellion, and there had been no shortage of bandits who presumptuously proclaimed themselves emperor and seized land for themselves. Had Yan Baihu lacked the title of Shanyue chieftain, he likely would have been written off as just another bandit gang and stamped out in short order.
Honestly, I couldn't fathom why everyone was so desperate for that damned title of emperor. I knew from semi-forcibly trailing at Her Majesty's side that the throne was a post so busy ten bodies wouldn't have sufficed.
With my thinking done, I put one last question to Sima Yi.
"Sima Yi."
"...What is it?"
"How badly will this coming battle hurt us?"
At my worried question, Sima Yi looked me square in the eye.
"That depends on how many Shanyue there are, doesn't it?"
"......"
"They're probably planning an all-out war themselves, so they'll come at us in earnest."
Hmm...
So the outcome of this battle would decide which way the wind blew from here on. Victory meant settling the pacification of Jiangdong — a task that had devoured decades in the original history — faster and cleaner. Defeat meant falling back across the Yangtze and waiting, endlessly, for another chance.
"Is it because you're too kindhearted? You certainly worry a lot."
Having caught my flicker of anxiety, Sima Yi gave a small smile.
"Just watch. I'll show you it was worry over nothing."
"......"
Watching her stand there so grandly, I couldn't help but say it.
"Are you trying to act cool all of a sudden?"
"...N-no, I'm not! What are you even saying?!"
My teasing left Sima Yi wearing a flustered expression. But hadn't her voice just stuttered? I'd only been poking at her — don't tell me she really had been trying to look cool.
I ruffled Sima Yi's hair as I spoke.
"There, there. If our strategist says so, I suppose I'd better believe her."
"I told you I wasn't acting cool?! And you're ruining my hair!"
That was what she said, but seeing as she made no move to knock my hand away, her body was honest, at least. Sima Yi would put instant distance between herself and anyone who tried to pat her head — even her own older sister, Sima Lang. I still remembered the sight of Sima Lang sighing, Do you have any idea how fast she is?, and a laugh bubbled up out of me.
Well, just as Sima Yi said, there was probably no need to worry. If we were the sort of force that would crumble merely because the Shanyue outnumbered us, we'd have folded at least once back during the pacification of Nanzhong. And unlike the Nanman, the Shanyue had no magic armor that turned aside spear and blade, nor did they command fierce beasts. Unless they hauled out some kind of combining robot while proclaiming it the secret of how they'd resisted the Han for centuries, there was no reason on earth for us to lose.
Which made sense — our faction now had every great talent of Wei, Shu, and Wu gathered under one banner.
...But now that I'd imagined it, I was a little curious. If the Three Kingdoms era had combining robots, what would they look like?
"You seem to be pondering something...?"
"Leave him be. One look at that face and I can tell he's off daydreaming about nonsense again."
Pang Tong murmured as she watched me brood, and Sima Yi answered in a curt voice while smoothing down her mussed hair.
Nonsense, she says. To a man, robots were a far weightier matter than she understood.
I reached out again and thoroughly ruffled the hair of the little strategist who knew nothing of a man's romantic ideals.
"Ah, aaah! Not my hair again!"
"...I'm jealous."
Catching Pang Tong's murmur, I turned my head, and our eyes met.
"Ah."
Meeting my gaze, Pang Tong jolted in fright and began fidgeting, utterly at a loss.
"I-it's, um, I was just..."
Look at those eyes darting about. It was practically an earthquake in there.
"Like this, you mean?"
Having caught on to what she wanted, I lifted off her hat and stroked her hair, slow and easy.
"...Hee hee."
Apparently my touch wasn't unwelcome; Pang Tong blushed and smiled bashfully. I was glad she liked it so much. Some people really don't care for being patted, you know.
Just then someone surfaced in my mind, and I kept stroking Pang Tong's head while craning my neck this way and that. Ah, there she was.
I walked over to Zhuge Liang, who was hiding her mouth behind her white feather fan and sending me meaningful looks.
"...My lord?"
"Favoritism is a terrible thing."
With that, I reduced Zhuge Liang's immaculate hairstyle to a hairstyle that had once been immaculate.
"......"
"Pfft..."
Zhuge Liang, who until now had shown nothing but calm and intellect, blinked as if to ask what on earth had just happened, and Sima Yi, having witnessed that composure shatter, kept working her lips to hold back a smirk.
Never mind that the one smirking had a hairstyle every bit as ruined.
"My lord, there's an urgent report I need to—"
Just then Zhou Yu entered the barracks mid-sentence, took in the disaster zone, and froze stock-still on the spot.
"......?"
Zhuge Liang still dazed, Sima Yi fighting laughter as she stared at her, Pang Tong beaming a giddy little smile... Yes, it was definitely a disaster zone. Zhou Yu's reaction was entirely understandable.
"Um... hmm..."
"......"
Her brilliant mind whirring at full speed, Zhou Yu hummed in thought for a moment before asking:
"...Would it do for me to come back later?"
"No, it's fine."
I shook my head and told her:
"Report first. You said it was urgent?"
"Ah, yes. Bofu ran into a band of Shanyue while scouting this area."
So what was bound to come had finally come.
Ever since I'd established our position near Moling, Sun Ce had been itching for action, patrolling the vicinity day after day. More astonishing still, all that movement left not a trace of weariness on her. Sun Jian, backing his daughter up from behind, simply laughed heartily — that's my own blood, all right — and Sun Quan, campaigning as my adjutant, looked every bit the proud younger sister.
Come to think of it, Sun Ce had been born over in Wu Commandery, down in Yangzhou, hadn't she? The same Wu as in the kingdom of Wu. Having spent her childhood in Jiangdong, it was only natural she knew the local terrain inside out — and no wonder she bounded about so energetically on ground she knew so well.
Hmm. When it came to subjugating the Shanyue, the talents of Wu really were the answer.
A month had now passed since we crossed the Yangtze into Jiangdong, and more than half the soldiers I'd brought with me were complaining of fatigue, unable to adjust to the climate. Of course, it was nothing serious. If a little weariness were enough to lose us a battle, Meng Huo would have thrashed us soundly back during the Nanzhong campaign. It was simply that, unlike back then, we now had personnel on hand who were used to this very climate — and I couldn't have been more grateful for it. Back in Nanzhong we'd had no such luxury, which was why we'd relied on stratagems rather than a contest of strength.
And beyond Sun Ce, Sun Jian — a general of long standing — and the seasoned veterans under his command were all hale and intact, which left me feeling thoroughly reassured.
One doubt nagged at me, so I asked Zhou Yu:
"Just to be sure — Sun Ce only scouted the enemy and came back quietly, yes?"
"That was the plan, but..."
Zhou Yu let the words trail off, stole a brief glance at me, then answered.
"The Shanyue know their surroundings just as well as we do. The scouting party was spotted, and a battle broke out."
"Hmm..."
Fair enough. A people who spent their whole lives at war weren't going to miss a single watching eye — least of all on the land where they'd been born and raised.
I asked, unable to hide my concern:
"How did the battle end?"
"Bofu cut down dozens of Shanyue single-handedly, then annihilated the enemy outright together with the troops under her command."
"......"
Truly the Little Conqueror. People hadn't pinned that title on Sun Ce for nothing. The way she tore wild across the battlefield must have reminded them of someone.
"......"
As usual, I squirmed under a gaze that was boring holes straight into me. If a hole ever did open up in my face one day, it would be entirely that girl's doing.