Volume Two: The Lord and His Grandson Chapter 83: The Bloody Battle in the Torrential Rain

The Jin City Army, advancing swiftly down the Han River, could not escape the notice of the scouts from Yancen City. Upon discovering the approaching force, the scouts from Junzhou split into two groups—one went upstream to report to Jinzhou, while the other sailed downstream to reach Yancen City first. The city immediately shut its gates and prepared for defense.

When the Jin City Army arrived before Yancen City, they were met with foul weather—thick clouds blanketed the sky, and rain poured down in torrents. My fifth uncle ordered an assault on the city in the rain, reasoning that any incursion into Junzhou territory must be resolved swiftly.

Yancen City had only a thousand defenders. In the face of the Jin City Army’s attack, the garrison commander committed a fatal error: he conscripted able-bodied men from within the city to assist in the defense, even requisitioning traveling merchants from Xiangzhou whom he trusted.

Of the fifty infiltrators among the conscripts, some were issued long spears, others tasked as laborers, hauling timber and stones up the city walls, and assigned to hurl these down on the attackers below.

The rain lashed violently against the ramparts, mist rising as visibility diminished. As the Jin City Army launched a six-pronged assault with ladders, the garrison commander patrolled the walls, inspecting the defenses, trailed by six of his subordinates.

Suddenly, two laborers crouched by the logs sprang up, each seizing one of the commander’s legs. In an instant, they hurled him over the battlements.

A startled cry echoed as the commander was flung from the wall, soaring into the void below. Alarm erupted among the defenders. The subordinates and soldiers on the wall, caught unawares, were assailed by a group of conscripted laborers who suddenly turned on them. Amid shouts that the commander was dead and the city had fallen, confusion and chaos reigned.

From two ladders, the Jin City Army surged up, pouring into the breach and joining the fray atop the walls. The forces left to defend Yancen City were all confidants of Feng Xingshi, fiercely loyal and putting up desperate resistance.

When the fighting finally ceased, more than half of the six hundred defenders at the western city gate lay dead or wounded; the Jin City Army had also lost over three hundred men.

As for the conscripted laborers, at the news of the commander’s death, most shrank back, feigning death along the edges of the chaos.

After the city was taken, my fifth uncle issued orders for restoring order from the occupied prefect’s office.

Jin City Army soldiers marched the streets, announcing to the populace: “Feng Xingshi has attacked Jinzhou in collusion with the deposed eunuch Yang Fugong’s faction. His Majesty the Emperor is enraged and has dismissed Feng Xingshi from his post as Prefect of Junzhou. In his place, the son of the Prime Minister, Wei Xun, Assistant Minister of Rites, has been appointed as the new Prefect. The Divine Strategy Army has come by imperial command—there is no need for alarm.”

Some bold citizens ventured forth to ask, “Are you truly the Divine Strategy Army of the court?”

The soldiers replied with confidence, “We are five thousand strong of the Jin City Army, one of the capital’s Divine Strategy units. Our general is titled Baron of Shiquan, and the new Prefect will arrive soon. Feng Xingshi is now a dismissed traitor.”

Skepticism lingered among the people and garrison alike; all adopted a wait-and-see attitude. None showed open allegiance, nor did any dare to plot mischief in secret.

...

Amid the torrential downpour, Yancen City changed hands. West City likewise suffered the onslaught of the storm, with brutal fighting in the rain at both the eastern and western gates, blood mingling with water and staining the walls crimson.

Wei Fufeng, gritting his teeth and grasping a long spear, personally took to the ramparts at the western gate. Braving a hail of arrows, he moved swiftly to plug the breaches in the defense, but the rain-shrouded visibility put the defenders at a disadvantage.

With a shout and a thrust as swift as a snake’s strike, Wei Fufeng slew an enemy climbing the walls.

By his side fought Lin Qingxue; the two coordinated seamlessly, one attacking, the other defending. Lin Qingxue wielded her longsword mainly to deflect arrows.

...

Beyond the eastern gate, Feng Xingshi, in his forties, imposing and broad-shouldered, with a bluish birthmark on his face, glared at the city tower with bloodshot eyes like a maddened wolf.

After three days of assault and a loss of four thousand soldiers—hard-earned veterans he had amassed over the years—he was driven nearly mad with grief. He had believed that with the loss of just two thousand men, the eastern gate would fall, but the defenders fought with unimaginable tenacity.

“Sir, a scout just arrived from home with urgent news: several thousand elite troops are advancing from Shangzhou, heading toward Yancen City. Their allegiance is unknown,” a trusted officer reported quietly.

“What did you say?” Feng Xingshi’s eyes blazed as he turned to the officer, who repeated his message.

Feng Xingshi’s mind raced. After a moment, he growled, “Han Jian, the guardian of Tongguan?”

The officer nodded. “Very likely. Han Jian seized Shangzhou and has been eyeing Junzhou—now he’s struck at our moment of vulnerability.”

“Damnation!” Feng Xingshi cursed furiously. He had worried the Loyal Army wouldn’t intervene, but now Han Jian had seized the opportunity from the north.

“Order a retreat. Have the two thousand troops waiting on the Han River return by boat to Yancen City at once.” Feng Xingshi made his decision without hesitation.

The officer saluted and withdrew. Suddenly, the assault at the eastern gate ceased—the Junzhou soldiers, who had been fighting tooth and nail, promptly retreated at the signal, and the allied forces broke camp in haste.

“Sir, should we inform Yang Shouliang?” the officer suggested.

Feng Xingshi replied coldly, “Don’t tell him Han Jian is attacking Junzhou. Say it’s the Loyal Army attacking Yancen City. If Yang Shouliang hears Han Jian has marched, he’ll likely retreat as well. Let him waste his forces here.”

Yang Shouliang, upon receiving the message, felt no disappointment; rather, he was secretly pleased. Yet he could not afford to tarry either. He split his forces once more to blockade the eastern gate and adopted a siege strategy.

...

The relentless rain over the next few days caused the Han River to swell into a flood.

What had hindered the city’s defenders now became a nightmare for the returning Junzhou soldiers. The roads turned to mire, and those traveling by boat suffered disastrous losses, with five hundred men drowned.

The Jin City Army, having seized Yancen City, could not wait for the two thousand southern Sichuan militia Wei Fufeng had mentioned to take over. Events had unfolded too swiftly—half the militia was still en route, struggling along the swollen river.

With the summer torrents swelling the waters, boats downstream found it almost impossible to return, and southern Sichuan had few vessels to spare. The commanders dared not risk sending troops on bamboo rafts, fearing too many deaths would bring disaster upon them.

Time pressed, and my fifth uncle, ever adaptive from years of campaign, left behind Lin Hu’s detachment and the officer Tian Wen, with a thousand troops to hold Yancen City. He himself led over two thousand elite Jin City soldiers out to seek fresh opportunities.

Marching through the rain along the north bank of the Han River, they reached the border between Yun and Wudang counties and made camp in a village, dispatching five groups of scouts upriver.

The next day, one group returned by fishing boat with urgent news—they had sighted Junzhou soldiers marching in the rain, though their numbers were unclear.

My fifth uncle decided at once to intercept them. Reasoning that the weary Junzhou troops, desperate to return, would press on without rest and likely camp near Yancen City, he anticipated that the muddy roads and relentless rain would leave them exhausted, their fighting spirit depleted.

Unbeknownst to him, more than a thousand elite Junzhou soldiers, traveling by boat, had reached Yancen City and launched an assault, which Lin Hu and Tian Wen resisted with all their might.

While the second assault on Yancen City erupted, the Jin City Army intercepted the returning Junzhou forces.

On that narrow road, valor determined the outcome. Though Junzhou’s numbers tripled those of the Jin City Army, half their force comprised soldiers from Fangzhou.

Just as my fifth uncle predicted, the Junzhou troops, spent from their forced march, were caught unprepared. Tongshan, clad in heavy armor and wielding a massive halberd, led the charge, cutting down all before him.

The Junzhou soldiers, taken by surprise, were thrown into chaos. The Jin City Army, well-prepared and emboldened by recent victory, surged forward with irresistible momentum, each man eager to outdo the next.

The Junzhou troops, uncertain of the enemy’s strength and overwhelmed by fatigue and panic, saw their vanguard fall back, triggering a chain reaction of retreat that quickly turned into a rout.

In the deluge, officers’ orders lost their force. As the Junzhou front lines broke, the Fangzhou soldiers in the rear, hearing the cries of battle, hesitated, then turned and fled.

After losing two thousand men in Jinzhou without gain, the Fangzhou soldiers had no stomach for further fighting in Junzhou. Their morale was abysmal.

Thus, seven thousand allied troops were chased by just over two thousand Jin City soldiers. Exhausted, many dropped their weapons and collapsed in the mud, surrendering where they fell.

In moments, the north bank of the Han River was crowded with prostrate soldiers, stretching for several kilometers.

The rear guard of the Jin City Army swiftly collected the abandoned weapons, while the vanguard pursued the fleeing enemy for more than a kilometer; only a few hundred managed to escape.

Only after surrendering did the captives realize their enemies had not outnumbered them.

The Jin City Army promptly announced the change of prefect in Junzhou: the former prefect, Feng Xingshi, had conspired with Yang Shouliang against the court and had been dismissed by imperial decree. The new prefect, Wei Xun, son of the prime minister and Assistant Minister of Rites, was to take office.

The prisoners, mostly commoners from Junzhou and Fangzhou, felt little loyalty to the court but held a deep respect for official authority. For the rank and file, soldiering was a matter of livelihood—so long as the new lord fed and paid them, they were content to serve.

All officers of squad leader rank or higher among the captives were executed by order of my fifth uncle, their bodies cast into the Han River. The rest were organized into new units.

Rather than mixing them with the Jin City Army, he continued to use their own squad leaders, merging Fangzhou and Junzhou men together—five hundred per battalion, each led by a newly appointed captain.

In the end, he gained twelve battalions of captive soldiers, numbering fifty-seven hundred, though their weapons were withheld for the time being.

They then marched on Yun County, where negotiations persuaded the magistrate to surrender and open the gates, allowing the army to enter and rest.

Soon after, messengers from Yancen City arrived, pleading for aid. My fifth uncle ordered Tongshan to lead two hundred Jin City troops to reinforce the defenders, while the main force remained in Yun County to rest and keep the captive soldiers under control.

The next morning, my fifth uncle used the county’s stores to pay the captive soldiers, promising the Fangzhou men they would be allowed home once the new prefect was installed and they were assigned to the new administration.

Thus unfolded the next chapter in the long and bitter contest for the region.