065. Seeking a General

Soldiers must be trained, but let’s leave it until after the New Year. During the festivities, he would make good use of his time by reading a few military treatises.

Li Xi, under the pretense of official business, turned the city of Shaozhou upside down, gathering every military classic he could find and carrying them off to his study. Night after night, day after day, he read without pause, and by the Lantern Festival, he had managed to read through every military book he’d collected. As for how much he retained, that was another matter entirely; whether he understood or could apply any of it in practice was yet another question. In any case, he had finished reading them.

Yang, now a self-proclaimed “well-read student of the art of war,” brimmed with confidence. When examined by the commander overseeing the militia, his responses were fluent and persuasive.

Over the New Year, Chang Huaide, who had little to do, rummaged through his bookcase and fished out several dusty volumes on military strategy, reading them as if they were nothing more than idle literature. A wave of nostalgia overtook him. He recalled his own youth, when he too had been ambitious and full of vigor, burning the midnight oil over military texts, rising at dawn to practice swordsmanship, all in the hope of one day galloping to the frontier, shedding his blood for his country. But in the blink of an eye, he had grown old and worldly; now, aside from officialdom, making money, and dallying with women, nothing remained. At this stage of life, he was little more than a walking corpse.

This realization stirred him with a sudden passion—he longed to cast aside his writing brush, don armor, and join the army. But once the passion faded, doubts surfaced. At his age, with failing eyesight and aching limbs, he was barely able to move about in bed—let alone mount a horse. What could he possibly do? Could he even ride at all?

Best to leave such arduous tasks to others. As the commander of the Shaozhou militia, his role was to oversee the big picture. As for recruiting, training, and leading soldiers—these minor details were for the young. Chen Hongzhi seemed quite taken with that young Yang lad. Let him do it. Chang could not understand why so many people obsessed over military command. Did they not know that the military is the nation’s weapon of disaster?—or so the texts said. He couldn’t quite recall the exact words, but it was something like that. The chaos of the country stemmed from too many soldiers; yet, a world without a single soldier would be just as disastrous.

As he pondered these things under the lamplight, a soft, delicate hand landed on his shoulder. His favorite concubine gracefully perched herself on his lap, guiding his withered hand into her ample bosom, murmuring sweetly, “Master, are your hands cold? Let me warm them for you, hmm…”

“You little minx, making such a racket in the middle of the night—do you want to attract wolves?”

“There are no wolves, but there are two little vixens—naked and waiting for you to rid the household of evil and bring justice to the people, my lord.”

With that, Chang tossed aside his military texts, sprang to his feet, and with a fierce look declared, “It’s easy to drive bandits from the mountains, but hard to expel the thieves within one’s home. Even if it means braving a sea of blades and blood, I will go!” He bent down, hoisted his delicate beauty, and strode off toward the western warm chamber, where her two sisters—twins—were waiting, hungry for attention. Among the thirty-eight songstresses in his house, he adored the triplet sisters most. This was a secret all of Shaozhou knew.

After conquering the “bandits within his home,” Chang lay limply amidst the powder and perfume, his lofty ambitions spent. Thus, when the time came for the examination during the Lantern Festival, his resolve was gone. Though he knew little of military strategy, he was a learned man, well-versed in literature, and regarded the selection of officials and generals as kindred arts.

He quizzed his subordinates on strategies from the military classics, causing most to stammer and blush with embarrassment. Only the newly “well-read” Li Xi handled the questions with ease, the two engaging in a lively exchange. Though separated by a generation, both had been educated by rote memorization and each had developed their own methods for reciting texts. Being younger by more than a decade and with the readings still fresh in his mind, Li Xi outperformed Chang Huaide in memory and fluency.

Chang nodded in satisfaction, listening with rapt attention. Li Xi’s “scholarly” prowess delighted him, and he believed he had found a capable general. After a few cups of wine, his tongue thick with drink, the commander swayed to his feet, military treatise in hand, and formally entrusted Li Xi with full responsibility before the assembly.

“I’m counting on you to look after those three hundred local soldiers in Shaozhou,” he announced.

A hush fell over the gathering at the respected elder’s words, then suddenly a chorus of approval rang out. Among those cheering, some were sycophants, others simply relieved. In this era, a vast gulf separated scholars from commoners. For a refined gentleman to mingle with barefoot peasants was beneath his station. Whoever was assigned the drudgery of training local soldiers was considered most unfortunate.

By picking an unlucky soul, Chang had acted in accordance with public sentiment, and so everyone applauded.

Li Xi joined in the cheer, outwardly flattering his superior, but inwardly relieved. Had Chang Huaide chosen to personally oversee the training, Li Xi would surely have made a fool of himself. Fortunately, the old gentleman not only disliked military affairs but abhorred leading troops, and so gave Li Xi full authority. Though he knew little of warfare, he did know who in Shaozhou possessed such knowledge. He could simply invite them to do the job on his behalf—problem solved!

The man Li Xi sought was named Zhu Kerong, son of the renowned general Zhu Hui of Youzhou. Zhu had once served as the Left Flank Commander of the Tooth Army. When the Khitan invaded, Zhu led his troops into battle, but, outnumbered, he was defeated and faced execution by the military governor Liu Zong. Zhu Hui resigned all his posts and surrendered his men and territory in exchange for his son’s life.

Once Liu Zong took over Zhu’s army and lands, he petitioned the court to exile Zhu Kerong to Lingnan, specifically Shaozhou. Once a general commanding over ten thousand men, Zhu now served as deputy warden in the county prison of Wengyuan, under Shaozhou’s jurisdiction.

When Chen Jianghu came to Shaozhou, he had mentioned Zhu to Li Xi, calling him a talented commander. Chen’s godfather, Chen Hongzhi, intended to win him over for future use and advised Li Xi to get acquainted with him if possible.

Had Chang Huaide not made Li Xi chief of military training, he might have waited until spring to visit General Zhu in Wengyuan. But now, it could not wait—a training chief who could not train would be a laughingstock.

So, as soon as the Lantern Festival passed, Li Xi found an excuse to travel to Wengyuan, a mountainous county in the southeast of Shaozhou. After a long and arduous journey, he arrived at the county office, only to find the main door ajar and not a soul in sight. He asked a nearby vendor, who told him that there was nothing going on at the yamen: the magistrate was napping in the rear quarters, the deputy magistrate had returned home for the holidays and had not yet returned, the registrar was off gambling in a nearby alley, and the county constable had dropped by in the morning, but left for drinks with a few others shortly after.

With the officials so lax, the constables, clerks, and bailiffs had all gone home as well.

Li Xi asked if there truly wasn’t a single soul on duty at the yamen. The vendor looked him up and down, then smiled and said, “You must be from out of town. Judging by your accent, you’re from Chang’an, aren’t you?”