12. A Bountiful Harvest

The next morning, after his morning run, Wang Bo summoned Niu Feihu and asked, “Feihu, what’s the situation outside Mount Jin?” Niu Feihu gave a detailed account of the circumstances in the surrounding counties. Wang Bo nodded and said, “Elder Brother sought you out yesterday—are you aware of this?” Niu Feihu nodded solemnly.

Wang Bo cautioned him, “This matter is of great importance. Be very careful—under no circumstances should you come into direct conflict with the other mountain strongholds. All you need to do is ascertain the general situation. From today, the scouts will be led by Zhang Baiqi. Select capable men from the auxiliary troops and ask Elder Brother to instruct them in tactics and coordination during battle. In a few days, you may set out.” Niu Feihu agreed.

“There’s an important task I’m entrusting to you today. After much thought, I believe you are the most suitable for it.”

“Second Brother, please give your orders!”

Wang Bo explained the matter of searching for Tian Feng and added with a grave expression, “Tian Feng, courtesy name Yuanhao, is a man of great talent. If he could be persuaded to join our ‘Xinghan Stronghold,’ our army would be as a tiger with wings! Feihu, do not take this lightly—you must succeed!”

“Feihu understands! I will not fail you, Second Brother!”

“If Yuanhao is unwilling, do not force the matter. Treat him with courtesy. Once you find out his residence, return immediately and I shall go to pay my respects in person.” Finishing his instructions, he also had Tian Chou select two clansmen who had been close with Tian Feng since childhood to accompany the mission. Niu Feihu took a considerable amount of valuables for contingencies and gathered a team of soldiers with families in ‘Xinghan Stronghold,’ disguising them as itinerant merchants for the journey to Julu’s Ren County.

After seeing Niu Feihu off, Wang Bo went to the drill ground to participate in training.

At this time, the number of combat troops in ‘Xinghan Stronghold’ had grown significantly, all chosen from the robust and able-bodied. Wang Bo believed that with ample food and high-intensity training over time, their combat power would increase greatly. Moreover, since they were all men who had survived dire straits, they would be able to stand against even the current Han imperial elite forces.

There were now over two hundred and forty formal combat troops. Those who had shown exceptional bravery in the last battle were promoted to squad leaders and section leaders, and even those who had suffered minor injuries now exuded an even more formidable presence.

Archers were the most numerous, divided into four squads of ten, each led by a squad leader. Every man was equipped with a solid hardwood bow capable of shooting a one-stone arrow, while squad leaders carried three-stone longbows. All wore short swords at their waists.

The fewest were the swordsmen, not even enough for two squads, due to the need for coordination with shield bearers and the complexity of their training. Arm shields were also scarce and equipment was insufficient. Wang Bo, drawing on the lessons of the last battle where the lack of spearmen had led to heavy casualties among swordsmen, ordered Chen Rong to prioritize the production of large shields for the shield bearers, then create a batch of arm shields for the swordsmen to enhance their close-quarters defense. Only those well-trained in sword-and-shield tactics would be allowed into battle.

Other troop types had two to three squads each, all expanded to more than double their previous numbers. The selection criteria had also become much more refined. While ensuring loyalty, cavalrymen were chosen for their riding skills, shield bearers for their strength, swordsmen for their agility, archers for their long arms and keen eyesight, spearmen for their sturdiness, and scouts for their all-around abilities. Thanks to spoils from several battles, every soldier was now well-equipped.

Watching the troops, led by Yang Feng and Du Yuan, sweating and shouting their slogans on the drill ground, Wang Bo felt his own spirits soar with pride and ambition. During a break in training, he instructed Chen Rong to have men cut wood and make smokeless charcoal in the caves to keep the soldiers warm.

That afternoon, Tian Chou reported that the graves for the fallen soldiers had been completed and asked Wang Bo to come give directions. Wang Bo led the burial of his slain brothers, mourned them solemnly, and personally set a stele inscribed: “Here lies the eternal resting place of the soldiers of Xinghan.” He also established a new rule: every newly chosen soldier must first come here to swear an oath before joining the ranks, and the first day of each month would be a public day of remembrance—all leaders of the rank of captain or above must attend unless away on assignment. Absences without cause would be severely punished.

That evening, Wang Bo realized he had been focused on the troops and the inner camp, neglecting the outer defenses. At once, he took Xu Chu, Yang Feng, and Du Yuan to the mountain passes.

Liu Yu and Lü Shan had been diligent, each stationed at a different pass, nearly living there day and night. When they saw Wang Bo and his company coming for a late-night inspection, they were overjoyed. After praising their diligence, Wang Bo instructed Yang Feng to assign more men from the auxiliaries to guard the two passes. Skill wasn’t the main requirement—what mattered was long legs and swift feet, to ensure timely reports at any sign of enemy activity. He also ordered Niu Da to organize a logistics team to supply all necessary materials, warning that any negligence would be severely punished.

Liu Yu and Lü Shan, moved to tears, knelt in gratitude before Wang Bo. He instructed them, besides their regular sentry duties, to arrange their own training schedules as well. After they agreed, Wang Bo and his group headed to the old camp.

Wang Qi ran up and embraced Wang Bo, asking excitedly, “Second Brother, Elder Brother, Third Brother, what brings you here?” Niu Hong was equally delighted.

Wang Bo patted Wang Qi, saying, “We know you’ve been lonely and working hard, so we came to check on you!” He told Wang Qi to build warming huts and ensure thick clothing and fur cloaks for those standing sentry at the forest’s edge. He also admonished both men: this place is the eyes and ears of Xinghan Stronghold—never grow careless!

It was already late when they returned to camp. As they entered, they saw patrols moving about and sentries constantly challenging passersby. Wang Bo nodded in satisfaction and said to Yang Feng, “Elder Brother, you’ve worked hard!”

Yang Feng rolled his eyes and replied, “How could one dare be careless in such matters? The Yellow Turbans have suffered too much from such negligence! You always complain about your own hardships, but have you considered how your brother exhausts himself daily, fearing even the slightest mistake!” With that, he raised his head haughtily and went back to rest in his cave.

Two days later, Niu Feihu returned from Julu, and upon meeting Wang Bo, fell to his knees in tears. “Master, please punish me—Feihu has failed you…”

Wang Bo helped him up, unconcerned, and said, “It’s all right, Feihu, don’t be upset. I expected as much—great talents are always different from ordinary men. How could he be persuaded by just a few words?” After a pause, looking at the travel-worn Niu Feihu, he asked, “Was the journey safe?”

Niu Feihu bowed and replied, “It was fairly smooth, but the officials and bandits along the way extorted us so much that by the time we reached Ren County, most of our wealth was gone. The gifts you prepared for Master Tian were thrown out by that ill-tempered scholar, who shut the door and refused to see us. I left some money with the Tian clansmen who accompanied us and waited a day, but fearing you’d be worried, I returned.”

“On the way back, I heard the main Han court forces had been dispatched to Liangzhou to suppress the rebellion of Bian Zhang and Han Sui, with elite troops drawn from You, Ji, and Bing Provinces. We encountered no trouble from imperial troops on the return.”

“Good! Go and rest, Feihu.” Niu Feihu withdrew.

In the mountains, time seemed to stand still. With ample food and high-intensity training, the hundreds of soldiers in Xinghan Stronghold had grown robust and fierce.

More than twenty days passed quickly. During this time, Wang Bo led raids on powerful families in Xiangguo and Fangzi counties, both yielding rich spoils. Grain, money, and weapons filled five or six caves. Dozens of artisans—blacksmiths, carpenters, and more—were recruited. The total population of the stronghold exceeded two thousand, mostly able-bodied men. In the rear, aside from necessary positions, only the old, weak, women, and children remained, along with two or three hundred prisoners doing heavy labor for decent food. The rest of the able-bodied were organized as reserves or auxiliaries, but their treatment was far inferior to that of the regular troops.

The entire stronghold was transformed: stone walls formed the base, topped with sharp wooden stakes and brambles. Arrow towers stood every hundred paces, lookout towers loomed over the gates and drill ground, and patrols moved day and night through the camp, valley, and hills, maintaining strict vigilance.

The warming huts were neatly arranged by unit, with ample space to prevent fires. Once enough huts were built, Wang Bo erected over a dozen large buildings for the daily work and meetings of the command staff.

The first heavy snow of winter arrived unexpectedly, covering the land in white. Watching the snowflakes drift down, Wang Bo was filled with thoughts and melancholy.

Before he could lose himself in memories of his past life, Xu Chu approached quietly and said, “Master, everything is ready.” Annoyed, Wang Bo kicked at the half-foot of snow and walked to the waiting caravan, mounted his warhorse, and waved, “Let’s go!”

Leading Xu Chu, Li Damu, Zhou Xiu, Tian Chou, and several logistics soldiers, he slowly left the mountains, heading east to visit Tian Feng once more.

Before setting out, Yang Feng and Du Yuan tried repeatedly to dissuade him, with Yang Feng even threatening a two-day hunger strike to no avail. Du Yuan finally suggested joining the party, but Wang Bo refused, saying, “You’re a former Yellow Turban general—people might recognize you. Xu Chu’s protection is enough!” He told them to guard the stronghold well, then departed.

Along the road, they passed the corpses of famine victims who had frozen to death in the fields and ruined walls. There were simply too many to bury, and Wang Bo, unmoved, stopped Xu Chu from trying to distribute food with a curt, “If you want to divide up the dead for the refugees, go ahead.” After enduring several shakedowns from county soldiers and ruffians, they arrived at Tianjia Village in Ren County, Julu Commandery.

Tian Chou saw only ruins. Though most had been covered by the snow, broken walls and uneven ground hinted at the once bustling village with its houses and fields. Now, only a few newly built straw huts remained. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed, “What a calamity! My Tian clan has lived here since Emperor Wu of Han, three hundred years of flourishing generations! Our family was prosperous and learned... and now, destroyed in a single blow, reduced to this! As clan elder, I am ashamed before my ancestors…” He broke down in grief, a sight too painful to bear. Wang Bo and his companions could not hold back their own tears.

After a long while, a fierce look flashed in Wang Bo’s eyes, and he declared, “Here and now, I, Wang Bo, swear: I shall devote my life to ending war, averting calamity, and restoring peace and prosperity to the people. If I break this vow, may heaven and earth destroy me!”

The others wiped their eyes and answered in unison, “Master, you are righteous. We will follow you to the end!” Tian Chou slowly stood and said, “Enough! The future is uncertain and not for us to predict, but I will persuade Yuanhao to follow our lord!” Then, Wang Bo and Tian Chou took the surviving members of the Tian clan and headed for Tian Feng’s residence in Ren County.

They stopped outside a modest courtyard. A soldier who had been there before said, “Master, this is the place!” Wang Bo stopped him from knocking and turned to Tian Chou, “It would be less abrupt if you, sir, went ahead.”

“Of course, leave it to me!” Tian Chou stepped forward and knocked.

A young servant opened the door, saw Tian Chou, and exclaimed, “Clan elder, is it you?” He glanced at the group and bowed deeply, “Master, please come in!” After ushering them into the courtyard and closing the door, he ran to the main house, calling out, “The clan elder has returned! The clan elder is back!”

Wang Bo and the others exchanged smiles, only now recalling that this servant had accompanied Niu Feihu on the previous visit.

The main door opened and a scholar, his face prematurely aged, appeared, calling, “Where is the clan elder?” Seeing Tian Chou, he hurried forward and took his arm, voice trembling, “Clan elder, you have suffered! Your nephew is late—please forgive me!” He made as if to kneel.

Tian Chou quickly supported him, choking back tears. “No matter, Yuanhao, you are safe—that is all I could hope for! You are the pride of the Tian clan. The heavens are merciful!” Then, turning, he said, “This is the man who rescued and sheltered me: Lord Wang, master of ‘Xinghan Stronghold!’”

Tian Feng turned, lifted his robe, and bowed to Wang Bo. “Tian Feng thanks the master of Xinghan for your aid. Please rest in my humble abode.” With that, he subtly withdrew his hands, stepping back to stand beside Tian Chou, pointedly avoiding Wang Bo’s offered hands.

“Yuanhao! How could you be so discourteous?” Tian Chou frowned.

Wang Bo was momentarily taken aback, but shook his head at Tian Chou and the glaring Xu Chu, signaling that it didn’t matter. He led the group after the servant to the guest quarters. The servant looked embarrassed and kept his head down as he led the way. Tian Chou, shaking his head in regret, let Tian Feng support him back to the main house.

The night passed without incident. Wang Bo, lying on a narrow bed, tossed and turned, lost in thought. In the main house, the lamps burned until late in the night, and he could faintly hear Tian Chou’s voice.

Early the next morning, the servant knocked softly and, seeing Wang Bo had finished his morning run, asked awkwardly, “Did the master sleep well last night?”

Wang Bo smiled, “I slept very soundly. Thank you for your concern, brother.” The servant smiled apologetically, “Yuanhao said he will meet the master at noon today and asked me to inform you. If you have any requests, please let me know. My brother Yuanhao can be odd at times and his words may seem brusque, but he has a good heart—please forgive any offense.” With that, he withdrew and closed the door.

After breakfast, with nothing to do, Wang Bo strolled around the courtyard but soon grew bored. He caught the servant and asked, “Are there any books in the house?”

The servant looked troubled and stammered, “I… I will go and ask!” He hurried to the main house and quickly returned, beaming. “Master, please come this way. This room has the most books. My brother has never shown them to anyone, but you are welcome to read as much as you like!”

Wang Bo entered the room and saw shelves stacked with bundles of books made of wood or bamboo slips. He caught a faint whiff of fragrance and thought, “So this is what people mean by a ‘scholarly household.’” He took down a roll and unrolled it. “What the heck is this? I can’t read a word!” He moved to a group of small, square wooden boxes in the back.

“Maybe there are jewels inside?” He gently opened one, only to find a booklet sewn with silk thread along the edge. The paper was yellowed and rough, made from plant stems of uneven lengths, mixed with fibrous threads. The surface was coarse.

Wang Bo muttered, “Didn’t the Eastern Han have a eunuch named Cai Lun? He invented paper using tree bark and rags. Why isn’t it more common now? Ah well, when I’ve established my foundation, I’ll teach these people how to make real paper!”

Finally, he opened a more ornate rectangular box and his eyes lit up. “Now this is a real book!”

The entire book was made of snow-white, soft silk. Only the right edge, where it was bound, was slightly stiff, and the pages were exceptionally smooth. The script inside was neat and different from before; Wang Bo wasn’t sure if it was oracle bone or clerical script, and could only guess at parts of it. What was remarkable was that the book was illustrated.

After studying a few pictures and puzzling out some captions, Wang Bo was overjoyed. “So this is a treasure describing the geography and culture of the Eastern Han? I’ve been searching for a book like this! This is a gift from the heavens…” So delighted, he began to hum a tune, found a corner, and, uncaring of the dust, eagerly pored over his new discovery.