Fei Sheng no longer dared to underestimate Yin Chang.
Last night’s “speartip formation” had been terrifyingly effective. He had never even heard of such a tactic before. If not for the sudden appearance of the fire lances, they would have already been inside Fanzhou’s city gates by this morning.
Yin Chang had been startled awake by the fire lances as well. He held a bowl and leaned forward. “What in the world was that thing?”
Fei Sheng had now staked everything on this old man’s success. Seeing Yin Chang’s empty bowl, he quickly refilled it and said, “Fire lance. You’ve never heard of it?”
Yin Chang shook his head vigorously. He had spent his entire life in Cizhou and the highest-ranking official he had ever met was Zhou Gui. Let alone the Springwater Battalion, he could not even count the Eight Great Garrisons clearly. He was a true country old-timer, barely literate, with no military education at all—he had never read a single military manual.
“What even is it?” Yin Chang crushed a piece of dry rations in his hand. “It just went ‘boom’ like thunder striking. Anyone who can’t even reach it gets killed. How are you supposed to fight that?”
“It only works at close range,” Fei Sheng said, leaning closer. Both of them were now covered in blood and grime, equally filthy. Fei Sheng formed his fingers into a circle to demonstrate the size of a barrel. “The cavalry last night wasn’t moving because they were loading it. It takes time to fire, and you have to be close for it to work. We were shaken by it—it was probably only a few of them, just meant to scare us.”
Yin Chang finally understood. “So it’s just fireworks!”
“Exactly!” Fei Sheng said immediately. “Just treat it like fireworks. If you stay far away, it can’t hit you.”
He was desperate not to let Yin Chang lose heart and refuse to attack again, so he forced himself to explain further. “Think about it—if this thing were really so useful, why would the Springwater Battalion only use it for ceremonies for the Emperor? It’s useless in real combat.”
Fei Sheng was not lying. The reason the Springwater Battalion had shelved the fire lance was precisely because it was impractical. It took too long to load; in close combat, the enemy’s blade could already be at your throat before it even fired. At long range, its lethality dropped sharply, and accuracy was easily affected by recoil.
“And it burns your backside too,” Yin Chang muttered, still unsettled by last night’s explosion. After a moment of staring at the fire, he asked, “Is it expensive?”
“Extremely expensive,” Fei Sheng said, soaking his rations in his bowl and swallowing them roughly. “Even the Imperial Guards don’t have the blueprints. It’s produced under strict supervision by the Ministry of War and Ministry of Works. There’s a limited number each time, and every one of them is engraved with a serial mark.”
Yin Chang suddenly grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. “Then let’s fight them anyway. I was only afraid it was cheap. Fanzhou is so poor they can barely shit properly—how could they afford to waste something expensive like that? If they can’t even reach us, then good. I refuse to believe they can hide in there forever like turtles.”
A cold northern wind slammed against the gates, rattling the wooden panels. Corpses lined the streets of Fanzhou. The Wing King’s banners were torn and fluttering in the wind, snatched up by beggars for warmth. Hundreds of people crowded the windbreaks of the government office—mostly elderly, women, and children. Their able-bodied men had either been conscripted by bandits or tricked into military service by the Wing King. Now they were all skin and bones, coming only to beg for food.
Every night this winter wind cut deep enough to kill.
“Brother Huo wants to open the granaries,” said Yang Qiu, sitting in a high-backed chair with his legs crossed, smiling faintly. “Good idea—we all support it. But now that the Cizhou garrison is at our doorstep, the front-line troops can’t go hungry. As long as the soldiers are fed, you can distribute grain to whoever you want.”
The hall was filled with men standing or sitting on both sides—bandits from Fanzhou and Dengzhou. Yin Chang’s suspicion had been correct: the Wing King had gathered all military forces in preparation for a final bargaining move against Shen Zechuan. Instead, he had been killed first by Huo Lingyun and these men.
Huo Lingyun sat on the Wing King’s tiger throne and said, “Food supplies in the city are running out. I need to borrow grain from all of you.”
“We’ve already been cut off from the west,” Yang Qiu said bitterly. “Merchants don’t dare come anymore. Since October, I’ve been eating old grain. And you still want to borrow from us? Fang Laoshi, you used to lick the Wing King’s boots—don’t act poor in front of us now.”
Fang Laoshi, pale and gaunt, sneered. “Bullshit. Stop playing your tricks. My grain has already been requisitioned into military stores. I’m feeding the same starving dogs as you.”
“No grain, and you still want to fight?” Yang Qiu said. “Might as well run.”
“Run?” Fang Laoshi spat. “The entire northwest is sealed off by Shen Zechuan. Where to? Tianfei Pass to beg Chi Dashi? Or Tea River to fight the barbarians? Shen Zechuan is going to attack Duan Prefecture in February anyway. If we disrupt his plans and leave him a gap in Zhongbo, do you think he’ll let us live?”
They were bandits. They had already watched Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye destroy Lei Changming, then Cai Yu in Chazhou, then Lei Jingzhe in Danzhou. Every major bandit leader in Zhongbo had fallen to Shen Zechuan. Anyone with sense knew he would not spare them.
Yang Qiu had originally intended to exploit Huo Lingyun, but now realized Fang Laoshi and the others were also trying to seize the treasury. Everyone was scheming against everyone else.
Huo Lingyun, though seated on the throne, remained subdued. “No need to panic. Shen Zechuan only sent an old man this time—no prestige, no ability, and timid as well. He won’t amount to anything.”
Yet that “old man” had already wiped out nearly half of their forces in a single encounter.
Yang Qiu thought Huo Lingyun was useless, but still smiled. “Indeed. A rural old man is nothing. I’m only worried about supplies. At this rate, even if we repel Cizhou’s army, we won’t last until spring.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Fang Laoshi mocked. “Let’s hear your brilliant plan.”
Yang Qiu looked at Huo Lingyun. “There are stores in Danzhou under Qian He. We can exchange the Wing King’s wealth for grain. He only recognizes profit, not people. He’ll help us. As long as we survive this winter, Brother Huo can secure the throne, and we can recruit troops later.”
Fang Laoshi sneered, but did not expose him further.
Huo Lingyun asked, “But with the garrison besieging us, how do we reach Danzhou?”
“I know that route well,” Yang Qiu said. “I can make the trip myself.”
Fang Laoshi immediately objected, but the hall fell into heated dispute. No one was willing to share the Wing King’s treasury.
Yang Qiu, frustrated, finally decided that if necessary, he would kill and seize it that very night.
On the city wall, a Fanzhou soldier urinated against the battlements when he suddenly heard whistles below. He peeked through the gaps and saw torches burning in the field outside. The Cizhou garrison stood in formation with shields raised, but no attack order was given.
Yin Chang stood at the front, took a few sips of wine, and shouted, “Is the Wing King in there? Tell him to come up—we’ll talk!”
The memory of last night’s spear-tip formation still haunted them. Yin Chang had charged like a madman, and his presence alone still carried fear. The Fanzhou squad leader, a bandit from Yang Qiu’s faction, spat down at him. “Talk your mother’s ass. Dream on.”
Yin Chang shouted back without hesitation, “Every one of you in Fanzhou is a coward! You can’t even lick my boots! What kind of war are you fighting? Get down here and polish our Prefect’s shoes!”
His language was crude and unrestrained; he could curse for three days straight without repeating himself. The garrison echoed him loudly, their voices booming.
The squad leader, enraged, shouted, “Shoot them!”
Arrows rained down. The Cizhou troops immediately retreated, shields raised, laughing and cursing all the way back beyond range, where they stopped and jeered.
Yin Chang stepped back into range, raised both hands, and signaled the horn.
“Fanzhou—!” he roared.
The troops responded in unison: “A bunch of cowards!”
“Wing King—!”
“Just a damn rabid dog!”
The Fanzhou soldiers raged and shouted back from the walls, but were completely drowned out.
The squad leader, humiliated beyond endurance, roared, “Release the arrows again!”
But again the Cizhou troops simply retreated, taunted, then returned to the boundary line to mock them.
Yin Chang even composed a rhythm for them, and the soldiers roared so loudly it shook the night sky.
The squad leader, red with fury, finally snapped: “Mount up!”
His men prepared to ride out.
“Wait—” someone began.
“Wait my ass,” the squad leader snarled. “I’m Yang Qiu’s man. I killed Cizhou soldiers in Danzhou while Huo Lingyun was still pissing his pants. And he thinks he can command me? Bring out the fire lances!”
The memory of last night’s devastation still lingered. They had lost nearly half their men. But now, behind Fanzhou’s walls, they felt secure. If they retreated, they could simply fall back again. With horses, they could withdraw under arrow cover. What did they have to fear?
Yin Chang adjusted his trousers and slowly gripped his sword.
The moment the gates opened, battle intent surged through his body once more.
He felt young again.
Victory—he would win at least one battle, even if he was not a famed general.