Chapter Seventy-Three: The Struggle (VII)

The lodging arranged for Xu Le and his companions was a temple within the city of Yunzhong.

The influx of the Five Barbarians into the Central Plains had brought with it a surge of nature worship, reflected in the proliferation of temples springing up everywhere among the populace, like mushrooms after the rain. Over the centuries, as the ruling tribes changed hands again and again, what remained were these abandoned temples, their origins lost to time.

This particular temple was spacious, and one could still discern from its construction and materials that it had once been a place of thriving incense and worship. But now, the altar stood empty, with no sign of the deity once enshrined there.

Such deserted buildings made for excellent quarters for troops. Throughout history, armies have most often used temples, ancestral halls, and warehouses for billeting soldiers. The spaces are large, with few partitions, easy to protect against fire and water, and isolated from the civilians, thus avoiding much trouble.

Originally, this temple had been occupied by a full squad of the Ever-Vigilant Eagle Regiment, but Liu Wuzhou, upon ordering arrangements for Xu Le’s party, had them all relocated near the city walls, crowding them into the patrol barracks below. Only a few soldiers remained as attendants to look after Xu Le and his people.

Though the Eagle Regiment of Heng’an was hard-pressed, their discipline was rigorous. Military discipline was not only reflected in obeying orders—advancing at the sound of drums, retreating at the sound of gongs, and so forth—but also in daily life: quarters must be orderly, scrupulously cleaned, everything in its proper place. There was never a case where a lax routine produced a strong army in battle. Cleanliness was also vital for preventing disease and maintaining combat effectiveness.

Thus, though the temple was in ruins, it had been meticulously repaired and whitewashed, with fresh straw laid down for bedding, its scent pleasant and wholesome. In the stables, the horses rested on newly replaced straw, and their feed troughs held hay chopped uniformly to a finger’s length, moistened with salt water and mixed with black beans.

Before Xu Le and his companions arrived, the quartermaster had delivered fresh meat and vegetables, and the millet was all from this year’s harvest. The few attendant soldiers were already simmering a large pot of meat stew and rice, the aroma of food wafting throughout the temple.

Such thoughtful arrangements were the height of courtesy from Liu Wuzhou. He wished to bind Xu Le with hospitality, hoping he wouldn’t stir up further trouble. If they could endure the autumn festival in Yunzhong, compensate Xu Le for his losses, and then send him on his way, that would be best.

If, earlier, Liu Wuzhou had desired to recruit Xu Le for his talents, now he treated Xu Le as a harbinger of misfortune: so long as he caused no trouble, anything else was tolerable.

Xu Le’s followers were more than satisfied by these arrangements. Since their arrival in Yunzhong, life had suddenly become much easier—though danger always lurked, wherever they went they were received with hospitality, from Liang Hai’s division all the way here. The days were so vivid and varied that not only the farmhands who followed Xu Le felt rewarded, but even the martial youths among them believed they had never experienced anything like it before.

By the time they settled in, night had fallen. The soldiers brought steaming food and a bowl of cloudy wine for each person. They gathered around the bonfire in the temple’s courtyard, eating and drinking with great enthusiasm. Even Song Bao, his shoulder wounded, showed no restraint, grabbing juicy bones from the stew and devouring them with gusto.

Xu Le first joined them for a while, laughing and chatting. Then he turned to see Yuchi Gong sitting alone on the temple’s threshold, a jar of wine before him and another jar piled high with steamed millet.

The millet remained untouched; Yuchi Gong simply stretched his neck and drank in great gulps, not bothering to blow away the dregs atop the wine. Each mouthful went down with a thunderous sound, as if the earth itself trembled.

Xu Le approached quietly and sat beside him. Before Xu Le could speak, Yuchi Gong, without turning his head, rumbled, “Say nothing. I’ll shoulder this blame. That battle with Qianyu Yue’s division was a thrill, and you owe me nothing, Master Xu.”

Xu Le sat on the threshold, gazing out at the smoke rising from the dwellings beyond the temple.

“Liang Hai’s division chief, Luo Dun, is a friend of my grandfather. He’s been captured by Qianyu Yue’s men, and I must rescue him.”

Yuchi Gong glanced sidelong at Xu Le, took another deep swig, and exhaled wine vapor.

“No. Drinking, fighting, hunting—I’ll accompany you. If you have other difficulties, I’ll risk everything to help you. Why? Because I respect you, Master Xu. But my orders are to keep you under close watch. In this garrison, orders are paramount. If you try to leave with your men, I’ll turn on you.”

Xu Le smiled faintly. “The alliance of the Nine Surnames has taken a sudden, strange turn; all the other divisions have been caught in Qianyu Yue’s net. Isn’t that a good thing for Heng’an? Saving Chief Luo Dun would reveal the truth behind all this and benefit Heng’an greatly.”

Yuchi Gong was silent for a while, then shook his head again. “No.”

As a friend, Yuchi Gong was the kind who would give you his very heart—so long as you met his standards. He admired Xu Le’s abilities, and when Xu Le was in peril, Yuchi Gong had unhesitatingly led his men to stand by him.

Yet Yuchi Gong was, above all, a military officer of Heng’an. His debt to Liu Wuzhou was deep, and his loyalty to Heng’an absolute. The events of the Nine Surnames Alliance were so peculiar, and Liu Wuzhou and his peers had simply watched, making no move. When Xu Le caused trouble, Liu Wuzhou smoothed things over, never pressing for the truth, only keeping Xu Le politely under guard.

Yuchi Gong, for all his straightforwardness, was well aware that Liu Wuzhou had his own plans regarding the alliance. How deep those intentions ran, Yuchi Gong neither wished nor needed to know. For him, so long as Liu Wuzhou remained and Heng’an’s Eagle Regiment persisted, that was home enough.

He uttered his refusal, then turned with his ox-like eyes fixed on Xu Le. After a long silence, he spoke again.

“Master Xu, I admire your courage and skill—you stand alone in Yunzhong, fearing no one, bowing to none. I myself was born a blacksmith, scraping by on brute strength. The old soldiers of Heng’an saw my potential, taught me the art of battle, and made me what I am today. But with skill came trouble: fighting for friends over water, I killed a few men. It was Liu Yingji who saved my life, risked everything for me. I lived in the countryside, fought bandits, earned merit, and the court gave me an empty title. Yet I was envied, slandered, and the magistrate never even questioned me, just wanted to throw me in prison. Liu Yingji, returning from Goguryeo, rescued me again… No matter what, I only follow Liu Yingji’s orders. Whatever he does, it’s for Heng’an’s Eagle Regiment. That’s my family! So if you have any other ideas, please abandon them. Otherwise, we’ll have to fight again!”

With these words, Yuchi Gong raised his wine jar and gave it a shake—it was already empty. He grabbed the jar of millet, and without chopsticks, scooped it by hand, eating with the speed of a storm. In moments, most of the hot millet was gone.

He then rose to stretch, declaring, “I’m full!”

Without another glance at Xu Le, Yuchi Gong strode out of the temple. Outside, the patrol was already set up, and Yuchi Gong’s squad of personal guards stood watch. With such vigilance, it would be nearly impossible for Xu Le and his party to leave.

Xu Le watched Yuchi Gong’s departing figure and shook his head.

Inside and outside Yunzhong, the alliance of the Nine Surnames was now unified, all under Qianyu Yue’s control. Heng’an’s Eagle Regiment was outwardly polite, inwardly guarded—a formidable power. Xu Le was alone, with barely ten men if he counted Lian Buli…

But so what?

He cared nothing for the alliance’s corruption, nor for Heng’an’s motives in letting the alliance run unchecked, nor for any hidden enemies lurking deeper still.

He had but one goal: to rescue Chief Luo Dun.

Tonight.