Chapter 18: The Suona (Thanks to the Alliance Leader lixiaopang)

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At dawn, Zhao Huai’an was awakened by the sound of chopping wood. Rubbing his eyes and face, he noticed a bucket of water by Zhao Liu’s feet and hurried over. He dipped a coarse cloth into the bucket, wrung it, and pressed it to his face. The cold water of winter was shockingly invigorating, and Zhao Huai’an was instantly alert.

But soon, Zhao Liu glared at him fiercely and said, “You fool, that’s the water for cooking.”

Feeling guilty, Zhao Huai’an quickly changed the subject. “Old Liu, have you counted the spoils from this camp? These will be our capital for the future.”

This caught Zhao Liu’s attention. When it came to plunder, he couldn’t hide his excitement. He tapped his fingers, calculating for Zhao Huai’an.

“Zhao Da, this time we’ve struck it rich. This camp used to have hundreds of Tibet soldiers. Though they took most of the supplies when they left, what’s left is still plenty. You like armor, right? Guess how many iron armors are here?”

Zhao Huai’an guessed after a moment’s thought, “Thirty sets?”

Zhao Liu was surprised Zhao Da guessed correctly but remained excited. “Thirty-two sets, plus the nine sets we already had—that’s forty-one sets. Add in leather armor and such, there are probably over a hundred suits. If we sell them back home...”

He fell silent, realizing no one would buy these, and if discovered, they’d lose their heads.

Looking around cautiously, he whispered, “Zhao Da, tell me honestly, are we really going to Qiongzhou? We’re deserters; if we go back to the army, life or death is out of our hands. Maybe we should just roam here. With Lao Mo and the others around, it’s not so dangerous.”

Zhao Huai’an shook his head and said, “Old Yue told me yesterday, the Tibetans from the northern mountains might head south soon. They’ll sweep this area clean, so staying here is even more dangerous. Besides, even if the Tibetans don’t come, there’s no future here. No supplies; soon, everyone will scatter.”

Seeing Zhao Liu about to speak, Zhao Huai’an cut him off with a promise. “You know why I swore brotherhood with Old Yue? Because he’s going to Qiongzhou to report on the Tibetans’ movements. He promised me that if I go to Qiongzhou, he’ll ensure I get a land militia under local jurisdiction, free from army control. Plus, he’ll get some wealthy Chengdu families to sponsor us with funds and provisions.”

Zhao Liu frowned. “Zhao Da, don’t be fooled. Those aristocratic families can’t be trusted. Old Yue’s doing all this—what’s his angle? Just using you.”

Zhao Huai’an raised his eyebrows, unyielding. “Exactly. He’s after me.”

Zhao Liu snorted, muttering, “So we’ll still be under their thumb.”

Zhao Huai’an was momentarily speechless, silently cursing Liu for being all talk with wild ideas.

He waved his hand. “Alright, alright. We’ll take it one step at a time. At least it’s better than returning to the army. Besides, I’m sure I’ll find sources for funds and supplies. By the way, you haven’t told me how much we seized this time?”

Zhao Liu’s excitement returned. “Forget the armor. We have enough weapons and staves to equip a hundred men. Also, three oxen, six horses, and twenty-six sheep. We’ve counted the valuables in the camp, but not much—these Tibetans are pretty frugal.”

“Then there’s some agate and amber, but I don’t see much use for those. However, there’s plenty of barley, filling a whole tent. Lastly, the Tangnu slaves—twenty-six of them.”

Zhao Huai’an lightly punched Zhao Liu. “Hey, I told you, they’re on our side now. Don’t call them Tangnu anymore.”

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Zhao Liu shook his head, unconvinced but silent.

After hearing the numbers, Zhao Huai’an calculated the logistics and asked, “How much of this do you think we can carry away?”

Zhao Liu wasn’t sure. “If we can get a big cart, maybe we can take more.”

Zhao Huai’an’s eyes brightened—he did know how to drive a four-wheeled horse cart. But then he thought about the road to Qiongzhou—would it even be passable by cart?

Zhao Liu didn’t know either and suggested waiting for Xianyu Yue and the others to return and ask them.

Speaking of Xianyu Yue, Zhao Huai’an looked around the camp and realized those working were all freed Tang people. Xianyu Yue and his group were absent, as were Lao Mo and Zhao Huai’an’s few disciples.

He wondered aloud, “Where have they all gone?”

Zhao Liu didn’t care much, pointing to a nearby hillside. “There. They’re over there, digging graves for those three dead tribal men.”

Hearing this, Zhao Huai’an’s heart sank. Just yesterday, Xianyu Yue had told him about his grudge against those tribesmen. Now letting them be together alone—would that end well?

Without another word, Zhao Huai’an grabbed Zhao Liu and ran toward the nearby earth mound.

…

Standing on the slope, Xianyu Yue’s eyes scanned the tribesmen digging graves and carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades. His hand stroked his horn bow. Truthfully, he wanted to shoot them all.

But he knew his second brother needed them and didn’t want to spoil their relationship over these people.

Xianyu Yue admired Zhao Huai’an. Though the second brother was just a deserter with a handful of armored tribal slaves, he firmly believed Zhao Huai’an could achieve great things.

This conviction wasn’t because Zhao Huai’an was a martial genius.

Though Zhao Huai’an’s skills were indeed exceptional, many in their “Rapid Cavalry” system were braver and more skilled.

Their Rapid Cavalry was formed four years ago when the Nanzhao invaded Chengdu, established by General Yang Qingfu. He recruited three thousand of Chengdu’s bravest warriors. Their cavalry charged into battle first and foremost, reminiscent of the famed “Trench Army” from the late Han era.

Besides the Rapid Cavalry, Chengdu had the Dingbian Army stationed in western Sichuan, and the loyal Wu, Hengye, Xusu, Yanhai, Yicheng, and Fengxiang armies stationed in outer towns.

These troops had all been stationed in Chengdu since the war four years ago, many fierce warriors among them, with the Loyal Wu Army being the strongest.

Previously, Xianyu Yue hadn’t worried much about Nanzhao, largely because of these garrisoned camps.

But after interrogating a Tibetan soldier yesterday, a heavy weight pressed on his chest.

The Tibetan told him there were traitors inside Chengdu.

Yes, he had concealed this from Zhao Huai’an—not because he distrusted him, but because the matter was too grave.

At first, the Tibetan noble said the Tibetans had no intention of going to the Qiongzhou frontlines, only wanting to plunder around Yazhou.

They weren’t foolish. Four years ago, Nanzhao had been defeated at Chengdu’s gates. Coming back now, what chance would they have?

But the Nanzhao told them they had inside help in Chengdu.

At first, the Tibetans didn’t believe it, but soon saw the Nanzhao’s relentless advance after crossing the Dadu River, sweeping through everything and reaching Qiongzhou.

Without inside information on Shu’s defenses, how could the Nanzhao be so unstoppable?

Thus, the Tibetans believed the Nanzhao’s words and decided to join the Qiongzhou front. After all, the heart of western Sichuan was Chengdu; plundering anywhere else wouldn’t compare.

Xianyu Yue believed this too.

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Because he knew the dark secrets: Four years ago, when Nanzhao besieged Chengdu, a commander named Li Zixiao colluded with Nanzhao to burn the eastern granary as inside help.

If the city troops hadn’t been vigilant, Chengdu would have fallen then.

Four years later, Nanzhao would repeat the trick, but more covertly and dangerously.

The more so, the more Xianyu Yue felt he had to guard this intelligence with his life. He trusted no one.

Because of the tea-horse trade, Chengdu’s noble families all had dealings with Nanzhao—even the military governor Niu Cong was involved.

Moreover, Xianyu Yue feared deeply because few had access to military intelligence in Shu; all were powerful officials, any one of whom could easily crush his family.

To protect himself and prepare for the worst, he needed a force unrelated to Chengdu’s factions, one he could deploy at a critical moment.

And Zhao Huai’an was the one he chose. A native of Shouzhou, his Lichou army was destroyed at the Dadu River by Nanzhao. With a grudge and ambition, he was the perfect partner.

The pressure on Xianyu Yue was immense. That was why he had gotten drunk last night and even danced with a group of tribesmen.

Thinking of this, his urge to shoot those tribesmen surged again.

Just as he controlled his murderous intent, he saw Zhao Huai’an running over.

…

Zhao Huai’an greeted Xianyu Yue on the slope with a wave, then headed straight to Lao Mo’s group.

By now, Lao Mo and the others had finished digging three deep pits. Yang Mao and Wang Li were moving the bodies of the two fallen tribesmen into the graves.

Sun Tai and Zhao Hu gripped their bows nervously, glancing anxiously at Xianyu Yue not far away.

Zhao Huai’an nodded approvingly. Sun Tai and Zhao Hu were indeed former armored slaves; their vigilance was commendable.

Seeing Zhao Huai’an approach, everyone quickly bowed down. Sun Tai stepped forward to speak, but Zhao Huai’an shook his head to stop him.

After confirming all were safe, Zhao Huai’an exhaled deeply and looked at the three tribesmen in the pits.

In a way, they had died for him. Morally and emotionally, he had to pay his respects.

Lao Mo and the others had washed the bodies, so for the first time, Zhao Huai’an clearly saw their faces.

They were young, but harsh lives had carved deep lines into their faces; “weathered” was the only word Zhao Huai’an could find.

He sighed; they were also victims of fate.

Seeing the lord silent, Lao Mo spoke to Wang Li. After Wang Li nodded, Lao Mo began covering the graves.

Zhao Huai’an and Zhao Liu stood aside, watching as red earth slowly covered the three men, their faces finally obscured.

His heart tightened. Suddenly, he turned to Zhao Liu and said, “Old Liu, play them a tune.”

Zhao Liu emitted a soft “Eh,” took out his ever-present suona horn, took a deep breath, and blew sharply.

“Doo~woo~dee~da.”

The mournful sound stirred Wang Li, who was still grieving, to look toward Zhao Liu—this was the first time he’d heard such a sound.

Zhao Huai’an’s mood sank as he watched the red earth pile higher.

Old Liu’s skill was excellent; the powerful notes of the suona echoed across the hillside, lingering long after.