21. Rebuilding Home

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“Zhao Yun has something to say!” Zhao Yun pressed his lips together and continued, “This conflict arose because of me. The men under my command were unaware and became innocently entangled in this affair. If the general is angered, I alone will bear it! Kill or spare me, as you wish! I only beg you to spare the lives of those from Changshan!” He finished and cupped his fists, bowing deeply.

“A defeated general! How dare you beg for mercy? You speak nonsense! My lord spoke kindly to you, yet you failed to appreciate it. Now…” Before Wang Bo could respond, the indignant Xu Chu cut in.

“That’s enough, Zhongkang!” Wang Bo sternly interrupted Xu Chu. “I have no desire to commit further slaughter.” He then instructed Niu Er to relay his orders to Liao Hua and the others, who, together with Zhao Yun, moved forward to restrain the still-fighting men.

In just this short span of less than half an hour, several hundred lives already lay scattered across the field, and the wounded were even more numerous, many of them still writhing in agony. The majority were soldiers from Changshan, especially the county troops, who, already terrified and retreating, completely lost their composure when Pinghan led his cavalry charging at them. They fled in panic, wailing and calling for their parents.

Though Pinghan and Zhang Baiqi’s cavalry numbered just over two hundred, each was fierce and formidable, with powerful steeds beneath them. In the past, when facing nomad horsemen or Yellow Turban raiders, the locals could do nothing but shut their gates and hold out for dear life, never daring to meet the enemy in open battle—let alone try to stop their cavalry. The local militia who had followed Zhao Yun out of the city to fight bandits had hoped to pick up some easy merit and rewards, riding the wave of a few victories. But now, at the mere sound of thundering hooves, all they could do was run, and in moments, many fell to the sword or were trampled by the charging Han Restoration Army. If not for Zhao Yun’s timely and resolute surrender, perhaps none would have survived.

The volunteers Zhao Yun himself led from Changshan consisted mostly of his own kin and neighbors from Zhaojiazhuang and nearby villages. Being closely related or tied by deep hatred against the bandits, and tempered by Zhao Yun’s training, their resolve was firmer. But their equipment was sorely lacking—most of what they had seized from earlier fights with the Black Mountain Army had been handed over to the county officials as spoils of war, so when faced with the well-armed, battle-hardened soldiers of the Han Restoration Army, many were killed or wounded.

When the pale-faced Zhao Yun saw his men from Changshan battered and miserable, regret filled his heart, but nothing could be done. All he could do was order his soldiers to throw down their weapons, speak a few comforting words, and then return to Wang Bo.

“General, you have often said you wish to march north to strike the nomads, scorning the strife between countrymen. I beg you to keep your word! I am here to accept death.” Zhao Yun stood aside, the very picture of heroic resignation.

“Haha! Zilong, there’s no need for such words to provoke me. I, Wang Bo, may be little known, but I always keep my word! If I were to go back on it, how could I command the army? You may rest assured!” Wang Bo laughed heartily, then added, “As for you, Zilong, you are both brave and virtuous—a man of rare talent! Why not…?”

“General flatters me! I fear I would only disappoint your good intentions. I cannot travel far, for my aged mother depends on me, and my elder brother lies gravely ill. I thank you for your kindness!” Zhao Yun replied impassively. Though his words were polite, his expression clearly kept others at arm’s length.

“Unappreciative! Just cut him down and be done with it!” Xu Chu glared, indignant.

“If you are set on dying, why worry about your family? Even as a ghost beneath the blade, you would not follow me to pacify the frontiers. Clearly, you harbor bias against my Han Restoration Army and the Yellow Turbans.” Wang Bo frowned, deep in thought. The idea of killing Zhao Yun to remove future trouble did cross his mind, but he ultimately could not bring himself to do it. Ah, let this be a good deed! There are so many famed generals in the Three Kingdoms—one cannot kill them all. And as for the unknown ones, there are doubtless countless more; slay one Zhang and a Li will take his place. The only thing that matters is to grow strong oneself—then, let gods or devils come, they will all fall.

Having resolved this, Wang Bo looked up and said solemnly, “Very well! The matter cannot be forced, and I will not act against my will. You are not an evil man, and I do not wish to kill you. But this senseless battle has cost my army dearly. If I let you all go so easily, how could I answer to my soldiers or the fallen?”

“So—since my Han Restoration Army is unfamiliar with the terrain here, you will assign a few hundred villagers from Changshan to clear the way and build camp for us ahead, serving as guides. They shall provide their own supplies. The others may leave as they wish.” With a wave of his hand, he ignored the protesting Xu Chu and turned away.

“I thank you on behalf of the people of Changshan for your mercy, General! And for sparing my life!” With that, Zhao Yun truly fell to his knees, kowtowed several times, and proclaimed in a loud voice, “So long as I live, I, Zhao Yun of Changshan, shall never be your enemy, General!” Rising, he looked at his mount and spear, but did not reclaim them, striding away with great steps.

“If Zilong should meet the brothers of the Black Mountain Army in the future, and they are not great villains, I ask you to show mercy—let a small punishment be enough, will you?” Wang Bo’s voice called after him.

“I shall remember!” Zhao Yun replied.

His warhorse snorted, ready to follow, but Xu Chu seized it, laughing and cursing, “Beast, you’re not going anywhere! From now on, follow Second Master! What do you say?” Regardless of the horse’s wishes, he dragged it away.

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After clearing the battlefield and burying the bodies of several dozen fallen soldiers with a brief ceremony, night had fallen, and the army made camp nearby, with everything quickly set in order.

Sun Qing and Wang Dang soon came to see Wang Bo, and as soon as they entered, both fell to their knees. “We thank General Wang for saving us!”

“Please rise! We are all of the same cause, brothers in arms! Such small deeds are not worth mentioning.”

But the two remained kneeling, exchanged a glance, and spoke in unison, “We, Sun Qing and Wang Dang, are willing to serve the general. Please take us in!”

“Haha! Excellent! Rise, both of you! My Han Restoration Army is in need of capable young men like you—there can never be too many! The more, the better!” Wang Bo laughed, pulling them up by the hand, and proceeded to inquire about the current state of the Black Mountain Army.

After a brief conversation, he had Xu Chu see to their accommodation.

The night passed peacefully. At dawn, the army set forth again. Now, with guides and laborers clearing the way, the Han Restoration Army advanced swiftly through Changshan, and within days, entered Dai Commandery in Youzhou. There, as promised, they released the laborers from Changshan and marched toward their next stop: the area near the Banshi clan in Dai Commandery.

Wang Bo had originally planned to rest here for half a month to restore the men’s strength before crossing the valley of Pingcheng. But since the march through Jizhou had been smooth and his troops were less fatigued than expected, he sent Huang Long to recruit guides and scout the road ahead. After assessing the situation, Wang Bo decided to halt for only four or five days, hoping to cross the open, defenseless valley of Pingcheng and enter the foothills of the Guyi Mountains in Dingxiang Commandery before the nomads in Yanmen detected them. Once there, the army would be much safer.

He also dispatched Niu Er with a personal letter from Tian Feng and some funds to Gaoliu, to pay respects to the Dai Commandery chief scribe and to the local officials of Beiping and Banshi County.

The sudden appearance of the Han Restoration Army in their jurisdictions did not provoke hostility among the local powers—most had either received a letter from Tian Feng or were introduced by his associates, and thus showed no unusual reaction. Only the county soldiers of Beiping eyed them warily, sending men to shadow the army, but when they saw the size and vigor of the Han Restoration Army, they dared not act rashly.

Upon entering Dai Commandery, it was clear that Youzhou was more stable than Jizhou. The once rampant Yellow Turban forces in Youzhou had dispersed after their leader Huang Long fled west and their generals Cheng Yuanzhi and Deng Mao were killed. Now, they were nowhere to be seen.

The powerful Xianbei confederacy had fragmented into civil war after the death of Tanshihuai. Shortly after the western Xianbei seceded, the central Xianbei tribes also split. The strongest chieftain, Kebinen, occupied the former Xianbei royal court at Danhan Mountain, controlling northern Youzhou, including Dai and Shanggu, and eyed these rich lands greedily, nibbling at them whenever possible.

Another legitimate heir of Tanshihuai, Budugen, was weaker and unable to challenge Kebinen. He led tens of thousands loyal to the old chanyu to Yanmen and Yunzhong, relying on the lush pastures of the Hetao region to survive.

The Xianbei who often fought alongside the Wuhuan and Gongsun Zan came from the eastern Xianbei alliance, led by Sully and Mijia, scattered beyond Liaoxi, Right Beiping, and Yuyang, contending with the Han settlers for survival.

Since escaping Xianbei dominance, the various northern tribes fought constantly to define their territories, and only after the Yellow Turban uprising did the boundaries settle. Although they raided the borders every year, they were now mostly concentrated in Yanmen.

This situation was the result of the Han court’s withdrawal from Shuofang, Yunzhong, Wuyuan, Dingxiang, and Pingcheng, and their resettlement of the Southern Xiongnu to guard the frontier. Now, the four commanderies and Pingcheng were nearly abandoned, and the Southern Xiongnu had been pushed to Shuofang and Xihe. The Han settlers there either migrated inward or were enslaved by the nomads. What remained of northern Bingzhou were crumbling walls, the ruins of ancient cities, scattered tattered tents, and herds of livestock roaming the grasslands.

Youzhou, by contrast, owed its stability to the capable administration of Inspector Liu Yu, whose reputation lingered, keeping the border raids small and the populace calm. Unlike Jizhou, which, after being ravaged by the Yellow Turbans and Black Mountain Army, was in constant panic, with deserted towns and travelers hurrying along in fear.

With the map gifted by Tian Feng and recent intelligence, the situation north of Yanmen was clear. Since Emperor Huan, the only remaining Han stronghold on the frontier was the Gouzhu Fortress at Yanmen, which barely held on. Even so, Yanmen Pass was often breached. Fortunately, the nomads were unable to hold conquered land for long, being pastoralists, so they raided and withdrew.

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Every autumn and winter, when the nomads returned from grazing and their herds were fat and strong, they would raid the borders, burning, killing, and capturing, especially the smaller tribes who could not obtain enough salt, iron, or grain from the Han. In years of famine, many starved, so they were all the more eager to raid.

The Han Restoration Army had chosen its timing well—it was summer, and the Xianbei were far away, grazing on the vast steppes beyond Yinshan. Only a few small tribes remained scattered within Yanmen, including around Pingcheng, and there were no large nomad cavalry forces nearby. On the broad southern plain of Pingcheng, only the occasional merchant caravan passed, posing no threat.

After consulting with his officers, Wang Bo decided to make his base in the long-abandoned, nearly deserted ancient city of Dingxiang.

Without delay, pleased with his timely advance north, Wang Bo ordered the entire army to move together and cross the open valley of Pingcheng as quickly as possible.

A few small north-south rivers, not very wide or swift, were easily bridged with sturdy rawhide ropes by the vanguard, allowing even the supply wagons to cross without trouble. The rest posed no obstacle.

A few bands of nomad scouts watched from a distance, but when they saw the endless stream of Han Restoration soldiers pouring out of the mountain path, they did not dare approach, and quickly scattered when Pinghan’s cavalry drove them off. The army entered the ruins of Shanwu, the former seat of Dingxiang, without a hitch.

Shanwu sits surrounded by the Guyi Mountains, with the Hun River—a tributary of the Yellow River—flowing gently past, whispering tales of history as it passes the half-buried stone walls, silent witnesses to the nomad’s brutality.

To the southeast, the Hun River rushes out through the mountains, forming a natural “Heaven’s Gate.” No road for horses or troops passes through there, so defense was secure; the main concerns were the northwest and northeast approaches.

The northwest route was a narrow path to Yunzhong and Wuyuan, scarcely a few meters wide, carved by the river over years. The northeast passage, wider and flanked by two parallel mountain ranges, accompanied by a broad river, led to Pingcheng—once, in Emperor Wu’s time, a settlement had been built there, but it was now long deserted. The Han Restoration Army entered this natural fortress by the old northeastern road.

After a night’s rest in the mountains, the next morning Wang Bo ordered everyone, except the old, sick, and infirm, to begin rebuilding their home.

All usable stone from the ruins was hauled to the northwest and northeast passes, where fortifications were to be built—defense was the priority.

Beyond the northwest pass lay the territory controlled by Budugen’s Xianbei: Wujin, Changle, and Beiyu in Yunzhong Commandery, the front zone of the Hetao plain. This was the main route for Southern Xiongnu and Xianbei raids into Yanmen. If they blocked it, Budugen’s people would have to circle around the Yinshan rampart to invade in force, which was far too distant and unsafe. Other mountain paths were impassable for cavalry, and nomads without horses were helpless—once the gates were built, they could expect the Xianbei’s fury.

Since Dingxiang’s abandonment, few nomad raiders came from the northeast, for Shanwu had nothing left to steal. But now that the Han Restoration Army was here, the nomads would not ignore them; they were no gentle souls and would show no mercy. Thus, gates had to be built here as well, or the army could not hold its ground.

Wang Bo did not overthink the naming—he called the northwest gate “Defend-Against-Xiongnu Pass,” the northeast gate “Defend-Against-Nomads Pass,” and the rebuilt city “Han Restoration City.” Then he joined the enthusiastic construction effort himself.

It was early summer, the weather pleasant. The army made no tents, save for some simple wooden rain shelters for storage; everyone camped out and slept on grass mats when tired. Inspired by hope for a better future, the reinvigorated soldiers and civilians threw themselves into the work with passion. Even the craftsmen who had been forced to come along were moved by Wang Bo’s fair treatment, sweating alongside everyone else. The construction advanced at a remarkable pace.