Chapter 102: The Struggle (Thirty-Six)

More than a day had passed since the destruction of the Thousand-Plus Yue Tribe on that stormy night of thunder and lightning.

Within Yunzhong City, the populace remained restless. Early in the morning, idlers gathered at the city gates, their brows furrowed in anxious discussion.

From dawn, the Heng’an Yingyang troops were continuously being redeployed, some hastily called in from distant garrisons, rushing to Yunzhong City to respond to the crisis. These scattered soldiers arrived in groups of a dozen or so, their mounts caked with mud, panting heavily from the arduous journey. The gates had turned to a muddy quagmire under the trampling of horses and men, with mud splattering everywhere as each troop passed through. The local townsfolk nearby reluctantly made way but refused to leave the area.

Outside the city, merchants from the hinterlands and members of the steppe tribes hastily broke camp and departed. They had risked coming here for profit, but with the market in disarray and the storm gathering over Yunzhong, lingering here seemed foolhardy. Who would stay through the harsh winter just to face ruin?

The faces of the Yunzhong people were clouded with despair. Eventually, even idle chatter ceased, replaced by silent shaking of heads and heavy sighs.

When it came to war, the people of Yunzhong were unafraid.

Born at the frontier, they were accustomed to wielding the plow in one hand and the sword in the other. When enemies came, men fought and women supported. For centuries, this was their way of life.

But the Heng’an Yingyang troops depended upon supplies and finances. Without the grand market, their income vanished. If these troops could not be sustained, they would disperse. Without a backbone, what hope did the townsfolk have to resist external foes? Were they to become herdsmen slaves to the Turks?

The chaos of the Five Barbarians and Sixteen Kingdoms was still fresh in memory. The Sui Dynasty had finally brought peace to the land, yet these good days lasted scarcely two decades before descending into such turmoil again.

All they desired was a stable life.

Yunzhong City was small, and news of Zhang Wansui’s capture was no secret within Heng’an Yingyang Headquarters. Everyone knew that Zhang Wansui had colluded with the Nine Surnames Tribe to incite rebellion at the grand market, only to be crushed by the forces of Wang Rengong.

The villagers directed their hatred toward the governor in Shanyang, unable to comprehend why a fellow Han would conspire with outsiders against their own people. Was it wrong for Heng’an Yingyang to fiercely defend the borders of Mayi Commandery, even at the cost of blood and flesh?

As commoners, they endured hardship under Mayi’s rule, sacrificing their wealth to support Heng’an Yingyang and offering their lives in times of war. Was that also a mistake? Did the governor wish they were all dead?

Within the city, a suffocating gloom prevailed. Though they had just won a decisive battle against over a thousand Yue tribesmen, capturing their kings and generals and even seizing the formidable general Zhang Wansui, there was no joy among the military or civilians.

Merchants who had come hired many young scouts from Mayi. Today, the caravans departed one after another, but few of the scouts left with them. Many settled their wages, took their horses and bows, and moved into Yunzhong City.

Seeing these scouts arriving in small groups, the townsfolk at the gates finally voiced their suspicions.

“You all are leaving while we stay behind. The grand market won’t hold now! We were born here and must endure, waiting for the governor’s wrath—or perhaps the Turks’. You’re not from Yunzhong; why not leave now?”

The scouts often answered loudly, “We are from Mayi too! No one cares about Wang Rengong’s schemes. We stand with Liu Yingji, live or die together! We join Heng’an Yingyang for nothing more than two meals a day!”

Amid the heavy atmosphere, a spark of youthful valor ignited. Frontier men had a streak of stubbornness against oppression.

Though gentle and sunny in appearance, Xu Le was raised in Mayi and bore the same fiery spirit. That was why he dared to storm the camp alone and cause such a stir.

The townsfolk embraced these young scouts, welcoming them into their homes to eat and drink without charge before they formally joined Mayi Yingyang Headquarters. Some scouts accepted gratefully; others politely declined, and a lively dispute broke out at the city gate.

The Heng’an Yingyang soldiers stationed there turned a blind eye to the commotion, pride swelling in their chests.

“You, Governor Wang, hail from a noble family, with soldiers and wealth, and alliances with the steppe tribes. But you cannot win the hearts of Mayi’s people—they side with Liu Yingji! If you have the skill, bring it on—we stand with Liu Yingji to the end!”

At that moment, a scout suddenly called out, “Lord Le!”

All eyes turned toward the city.

A procession was emerging, trudging through the mud toward the outskirts. Servants, scouts, and tribe members of the Lianghai Special Unit mingled, escorting a striking young man. He was between adolescence and youth, slightly lean, with refined features and graceful bearing—more like a noble from the capital than a rough frontier lad. If not Xu Le, then who?

Upon his arrival at Yunzhong, Xu Le had fought the Yingyang soldiers alone, defeating Yuan Si and even holding his own against Yuchi Gong. On the stormy night before, he had ridden solo into the enemy camp, capturing Zhang Wansui and uncovering Governor Wang Rengong’s collusion with the steppe tribes.

The name Lord Le had already shaken Yunzhong like a comet blazing across the frontier sky. His fame would surely spread to the Central Plains, letting the world know that Mayi Commandery had produced an extraordinary hero.

Beside Xu Le stood an elderly man with graying hair and beard, clad in a leather robe and cap with a fox tail trailing behind. This was Luo Dun, chieftain of the Lianghai Special Unit and a long-time family friend of Xu Le. When the Thousand-Plus Yue Tribe threatened to annex the Lianghai Special Unit and detained Luo Dun, Xu Le had risked everything to rescue him. In gratitude, Luo Dun entrusted his tribe to Xu Le’s care.

Thus, Lord Le had become the leader of a steppe clan.

With such prowess and a legendary story, how could Xu Le not become the idol of frontier scouts?

Countless young scouts surged from the crowd, rushing forward to stand by the roadside and salute Xu Le.

“Lord Le, are you going to meet the Lianghai Unit? We regret we must still pledge ourselves to Heng’an Headquarters and help Liu Yingji resist Governor Wang. We cannot follow you to the front—please forgive us!”

The townsfolk silently raised their hands in salute as well.

This Lord Le had exposed the governor’s treachery, allowing Heng’an Headquarters to prepare in advance. This was a great kindness to the people of Yunzhong.

Mounted, Xu Le looked around and solemnly returned their salutes.

He had only acted to survive and to rescue Luo Dun, yet had earned the gratitude of an entire city.

Clearly, what he had done was right.

Heng’an Yingyang Headquarters stood firm at the frontier, safeguarding the people against the Turkish onslaught. By aiding them, he had also helped those villagers.

How could he allow his fellow townsfolk to be trampled by Turks? His daring fight was not in vain.

But could the leaders of Heng’an Yingyang maintain their resolve amid this storm and continue to protect their people?

If Liu Wuzhou could still keep his heart true, then after settling matters with his grandfather and the Lianghai Unit, Xu Le might go to aid him. But he would never ally with Wang Rengong and the Turks.

As Xu Le glanced back at the offices of the Heng’an Yingyang Headquarters within the city, his grandfather’s words echoed in his mind.

“Liu Wuzhou is a cunning and untrustworthy man.”

He hoped his grandfather was wrong...