Chapter Forty-Eight: An Unexpected Encounter

Yang Lian had not yet spoken when Chen Tie, known for his boldness, said, “Grand Councillor, Chen Decheng stole a horse first, and then Lei Zhen provoked him. Though he’s injured, it’s his own fault. Why should we apologize?”

“And who are you?” Li Zhenggu narrowed his eyes at Chen Tie. This youngster was a hothead, too, unable to grasp Li Zhenggu’s goodwill.

Yang Lian quickly interjected, “Grand Councillor, this man is my subordinate, his surname is Chen and his given name Tie. He is straightforward by nature and often speaks without thinking. I hope you will be magnanimous. Today’s incident was due to my impulsiveness and has nothing to do with others.”

Li Zhenggu stroked his beard and nodded repeatedly. “Good. You take responsibility for your actions, honest and upright. That is the mark of a true man.”

From Li Zhenggu’s words, one could already discern certain clues, though many could not understand why the Grand Councillor seemed inclined to protect Yang Lian. Chen Decheng and Lei Zhen were not without fault, but Yang Lian’s actions were excessive. Brawling openly at the military encampment brought significant consequences.

Zhu Kuangye was able to keep his composure, standing with his hands behind his back and saying nothing. He knew that speaking now would be to his disadvantage, since Chen Decheng and Lei Zhen were his subordinates. The crime of horse theft could be construed as serious or trivial, depending on the Grand Councillor’s judgment.

But Li Zhenggu clearly wished to be conciliatory. Though the Grand Council oversaw military affairs, this was his first time leading troops—his main duty was supervision. After the late Tang, many had risen from subordinate generals to regional governors, and from governors to emperors or kings; Li Bian himself had taken such a path to ascend the throne. With painful lessons learned, Li Bian initiated reforms, often having the Grand Council lead troops or serve as military supervisors. During Li Bian’s reign, things were relatively quiet, unlike now, when the Son of Heaven launched frequent campaigns to expand the realm—though luck had not always favored them.

Yang Lian had beaten Lei Zhen and only needed to apologize, which seemed, to many, a great advantage for him. Li Zhenggu’s intention to settle the matter was clear, and Zhu Kuangye, though deeply resentful of Yang Lian, found himself powerless and would have to seek another opportunity.

Gao Shensi wished fervently that the issue would dissipate, and he agreed wholeheartedly with Li Zhenggu’s approach.

For the moment, the matter was suppressed, but the army was abuzz with gossip. Yang Lian’s name became famous throughout the ranks, everyone knowing him as a reckless youth best not provoked. The army lingered in Changzhou for two days, during which three thousand men arrived from Runzhou, bringing ample provisions and supplies. With the addition of Changzhou’s garrison, Li Zhenggu’s force now exceeded fifteen thousand.

Two days later, the Southern Tang army set out with great fanfare—drums and gongs sounding as they marched toward Suzhou. On the Wu-Yue side, Qian Wenfeng, the military governor of Central Wu, had already received word. Though the two states had stationed troops at the border the previous year, both sides had remained at peace, and when winter came with difficult supply routes, both armies withdrew. Now, with Southern Tang sending troops once more, Qian Wenfeng dared not be negligent; he patrolled Suzhou’s defenses while sending reports back.

After five days of waiting, the Southern Tang army finally halted at the border between the two states. The Suzhou-Changzhou region lacked natural defenses, with only rivers crisscrossing the land, so Qian Wenfeng had fortified the boundary, planting trees extensively to enhance defensive capabilities.

Upon reaching Wangting Town, Li Zhenggu did not immediately assault the fortifications but dispatched patrols in all directions, giving Qian Wenfeng precious time. Qian Wenfeng himself led ten thousand troops, halting west of Qinbo Canal, steadfastly holding the camp, sending out countless scouts daily to gather intelligence.

In theory, the Southern Tang army should have attacked, but in reality, aside from routine scouting, Li Zhenggu stayed in camp, inspecting troop drills daily, appearing calmer than Qian Wenfeng. Not only Qian Wenfeng, but even the Southern Tang soldiers found Li Zhenggu’s attitude puzzling.

Still, Qian Wenfeng had no choice but to station his army here, blocking Southern Tang’s advance. If the enemy penetrated Suzhou’s heartland, the region’s economy would suffer greatly. It was early spring, the season of planting, and Suzhou’s fertile fields were crucial; any interruption would severely reduce Wu-Yue’s military provisions for the following year, weakening national power—a key reason Qian Wenfeng abandoned city defense.

Though war had not officially begun, both sides tested each other constantly, scouts coming and going, bringing news as well as casualties.

Neither Southern Tang nor Wu-Yue bred horses, so both sides had pitifully few warhorses—many so-called warhorses were barely taller than a man. This was why Chen Decheng coveted Yang Lian’s tall steed.

Because of the shortage, those with horses were mainly captains and their personal guards, as well as some wealthy officers. They were temporarily organized as scouts to gather intelligence.

Yang Lian was also summoned; his tall horse earned him the temporary post of fire chief, commanding about ten soldiers.

The weather was clear that day. Yang Lian, Lin Renzhao, Chen Tie, and others set out to patrol. Qian Yuanliao and his father Qian Wenfeng had managed Suzhou for over thirty years; along the route there were many fortresses, rivers, and newly planted trees, a necessity given Suzhou’s flat terrain to strengthen defenses.

Yang Lian patrolled while sketching on a white cloth. Lin Renzhao approached and saw he was drawing a map—Suzhou city, Changzhou, and Changshu, the latter in the northeast. Yang Lian’s map was meticulous, even proportionate, marking lakes and mountains differently.

Limited by the era’s technology and being his first campaign, Yang Lian could only do so much for now, but he pondered improvements. War required knowledge of terrain and timing; if geographic details were thoroughly explored, one could command from above, observing water sources, wind, and climate—all seemingly minor, yet vital. Details determined success or failure; this was Yang Lian’s first battle, and he was eager to learn.

Lin Renzhao was impressed, never having considered such a thing despite his own experience, and felt somewhat ashamed.

The group, numbering twenty, slowly followed Qinbo Canal, stopping to investigate. Yang Lian halted at its bank.

Qinbo Canal had existed since the Spring and Autumn period, later becoming part of the Grand Canal, but was heavily damaged during the late Tang wars. For strategic and political reasons, the Wu-Yue people blocked the section within their territory, thwarting Southern Tang’s plans to use it for military transport.

Qinbo Canal had not been dredged for a long time; the riverbed was full of silt. On a clear day, one could see the water was only two or three feet deep, making it impossible for boats to pass or for the canal to be used for transporting troops or supplies.

After half a mile, they saw a stone bridge, scarred by blades and axes—evidence of fierce battles long ago, when corpses likely filled the ground and the canal ran red with blood.

Yang Lian waved his hand. “Let’s go and take a look.”

Lin Renzhao, being fire chief of another unit, naturally agreed. The twenty crossed the bridge cautiously, entering Wu-Yue territory.

Wu-Yue’s Suzhou was vast, covering not only the later cities of Suzhou, Kunshan, and Changshu, but also parts of Wuxi.

After crossing the bridge and traveling seven or eight more miles, Yang Lian spotted a stone stele inscribed with “Changshu.”

They had traveled a significant distance, at least fifty miles, deep into enemy territory.

With the sun slanting west, Yang Lian waved his hand. “Let’s head back.”

The group turned their horses and started back from the other side. After three miles, they saw a mountain in the distance. It was not high, perhaps seventy or eighty feet, more a hill than a mountain. In Suzhou, that qualified as a high place.

A soldier remarked, “This place is called Yu Mountain, I believe.”

Yang Lian nodded. Yu Mountain—he vaguely remembered hearing of it, possibly during travels in his past life. He hadn’t expected it to exist already.

Yang Lian squinted, surveying the scene. Though not high, the place overlooked its surroundings—a perfect spot for a lookout post.

As he considered this, suddenly a group of about thirty men appeared ahead. Their armor marked them as Wu-Yue troops.

The Wu-Yue soldiers were startled to see Yang Lian’s group. Before they could react, Yang Lian had drawn his long blade and shouted, “Brothers, follow me—attack!”

He squeezed his horse’s flanks and charged, blade raised.

“Attack!” Chen Tie echoed, brandishing his long lance. The rest, including Lin Renzhao, surged forward.

On Wu-Yue soil, the enemy had not expected a band of Southern Tang soldiers to appear, and they panicked. But their numbers were greater, and under the command of a scholar-looking figure, they quickly formed a wedge formation to confront the Southern Tang troops.

The thunder of hooves echoed under Yu Mountain as the soldiers fought fearlessly.

Yang Lian narrowed his eyes. As the distance closed, he saw the enemy raise their bows, preparing a hail of arrows.

He gave a cold laugh and sheathed his blade. Though his archery was not skilled, in a clash between armies, accuracy mattered little; with so many targets, any arrow could hit.

Lin Renzhao also drew his bow, and as they entered range, both sides unleashed volleys simultaneously.

Clang! Clang! Clang! As the arrows flew, Yang Lian wasted no time, drawing his long blade and slashing down the incoming arrows. Glancing back, he saw several comrades fall—some struck by arrows and tumbling from their mounts, others wounded in the shoulder or thigh.

Thus, from a chance encounter, a fierce battle erupted.