Chapter Fifty-Eight: Capture the Chief to Subdue the Bandits

"If the city gates aren't opened soon, we'll lay siege," said a man who looked like a commander, glancing repeatedly at the walls of Changzhou.

Another hesitated, saying, "But we have no siege equipment. How can we attack?"

The commander replied, "If we don't attack, where will we find food? Do you intend to starve to death?"

"But—these people are all Tang subjects. How can we..." someone protested.

"How utterly foolish!" The commander cut him off, furious, pointing at the city walls. "We treat them as kin—do they treat us the same? Look at those tightly shut gates, and the archers standing ready atop the walls!"

The group fell silent at his words. Seeing their hesitation, the commander sneered. "Li Zhenggu is utterly incompetent; we've become defeated soldiers. Consider: what do you think the Emperor of Jinling will do?"

A few years ago, when the Tang attacked Fujian, defeated generals were executed. As members of the Imperial Guard, these soldiers knew this well, and his words struck a chord.

"We've already committed a grave offense by besieging Changzhou. We might as well take the city outright and defect to Wu-Yue. Better that than death; perhaps we might even be rewarded with rank and wealth." His voice grew impassioned, stirring the men.

Yang Lian, as he drew closer, caught the last words and frowned, sensing the gravity of the situation. Clearly, these soldiers were on the verge of mutiny. He doubted they could take Changzhou, but a mutiny would have dire consequences.

The suffering of the people aside, Li Zhenggu would face even harsher impeachment at court, for it was his defeat that led to this unrest. Not only Li Zhenggu, but also High Commander Gao and Commander Zhu—key leaders among the Imperial Guard—would be punished.

Mutiny could not be allowed. Yang Lian thought this as he approached the raised platform. Around it stood a dozen fully armed soldiers. Seeing Yang Lian, one barked, "Who are you?"

Yang Lian smiled calmly, raising his voice, "I have a way to capture Changzhou. I wish to present it to the commander."

Hearing Yang Lian's words, the commander’s eyes lit up. He glanced at Yang Lian, noting the fine horse, the scar across his face, the armor stained dark red—evidence of countless battles. A formidable man indeed, he thought, but his interest in the siege strategy outweighed his hesitation. "Who are you? What is your plan?"

Yang Lian bowed slightly. "Commander, I am but a minor soldier. As for breaking Changzhou, the method is highly confidential. I would speak with you alone."

His repeated address as "Commander" pleased the man, but he remained cautious. "Come forward—but leave your weapons."

"So wary," Yang Lian thought, but his smile broadened. He hung his sabre on the horse’s head, dismounted slowly, raised his hands to show he was unarmed. The commander nodded, satisfied, and did not order a search.

Yang Lian handed the reins to a soldier below the platform, offering a slight smile, then ascended the steps. The faces gathered were unfamiliar—naturally, even a Sacred Martial Army officer could not know everyone. Those present were likely at least captains, perhaps higher.

"Greetings, Commander," Yang Lian offered politely, continuing his flattery.

The commander, pleased, asked, "Are you from Changzhou?"

"I am not, but I know Changzhou well," Yang Lian replied, his gaze sweeping the group. Five men stood on the platform, most appearing to be captains. Where was their commander? Had they all died in battle?

"Hmm. You claim to have a clever plan to take Changzhou—are you telling the truth?" asked the commander.

"Of course, it is absolutely true," Yang Lian replied, enunciating each word slowly, deliberately. The commander found it odd—why was he speaking so slowly?

Just as the commander was about to respond, Yang Lian, muscles tensed and ready, sprang forward in a sudden leap. His broad hand grasped the commander’s throat in a vice, while his other hand drew a dagger from his sleeve and pressed it to the man’s neck.

It happened so quickly that no one expected it—under the eyes of all, Yang Lian seized the commander. Those nearby reacted swiftly, drawing weapons and eyeing Yang Lian warily.

Yang Lian sneered, pressing the dagger harder against the man's neck. The blade cut into his skin; blood welled forth.

"Back away, or I’ll kill him!" Yang Lian declared, recognizing the man as the key figure—he had to seize control.

The others hesitated, but seeing blood, stepped back. Soldiers below the platform saw what was happening and were thrown into confusion.

"Don’t be afraid—kill him!" the commander shouted defiantly.

Yang Lian laughed coldly, pressing the dagger more firmly. "You may not fear death, but others do." He turned to the group. "You conspired to attack Changzhou—do you know what crime you’ve committed?"

"Don’t listen to his nonsense—kill him quickly," the commander urged.

"Silence, or I’ll truly kill you," Yang Lian snapped. He looked at the hesitant men. "If you were in his place, with a dagger at your throat, wouldn’t you fear death?"

Someone nodded—what normal person would not?

"Precisely, every sane person fears death. So why is he so unafraid? Moreover, he’s been feverishly inciting an attack on Changzhou—doesn’t that strike you as odd?" Yang Lian swept his gaze over them.

Some had already sensed something amiss, and one spoke up, "Indeed, we are Tang men—even in defeat, how can we slaughter Tang citizens?"

"Gentlemen, we received the emperor’s order for a secret withdrawal at night—a highly confidential matter. How did Qian Wenfeng learn of it? That’s extremely suspicious. Who’s to say he hasn’t plotted further to make us turn on each other?" Yang Lian continued, remaining vigilant.

"Hmph, kill me if you wish. Don’t mention Qian Wenfeng," the commander retorted.

Yang Lian smiled. "Why so nervous when I mention Qian Wenfeng?" Then he noticed something odd—the color difference between the man’s neck and face. Seizing the moment, Yang Lian grabbed his hair and yanked, pulling off a mask.

"Ah! You’re not Commander Wang—who are you?" someone demanded.

The man snorted, said nothing, and suddenly grabbed Yang Lian’s dagger, slashing his own throat. Blood spouted, and he collapsed.

Yang Lian regarded him coldly, then looked at the others. "You all saw it—this man was not Commander Wang."

Someone’s expression changed. "Could he really be a Wu-Yue spy?"

"Exactly—they must have killed Commander Wang and sent someone to impersonate him," another said.

Yang Lian said nothing, crouched to inspect the corpse. The man appeared about thirty, his face weathered. Though dead, his body convulsed. As he struggled, Yang Lian’s eyes brightened. He reached out, tore open the man’s shirt, revealing a lifelike tiger’s head tattoo on the chest.

"Ah!" Yang Lian exclaimed softly. He recalled seeing something similar—a tiger’s claw, once found on a Lake Tai pirate. This man had a tiger’s head. Was there some connection?

The group exchanged glances. One turned to Yang Lian, bowing slightly. "Brother, may we know your name?"

Yang Lian rose from his thoughts, stood up. "My surname is Yang, given name Lian—Deputy Commander of the Sacred Martial Army."

"Ah, you’re Yang Lian?" someone exclaimed. After Chen Decheng’s defeat, the Heavenly Valiant Army felt dishonored, and Yang Lian’s name was well known. None expected him so young, nor that their first meeting would be under such circumstances.

Several of them were also Sacred Martial Army officers. One said, "So you’re Deputy Commander Yang. Do you know if Commander Zhou is still alive?"

"I do not," Yang Lian replied, thinking he cared little for Zhou Hongzuo’s fate. Looking at the group, he said, "This man was not Commander Wang—it seems you’ve all been deceived."

"How shameful," someone blushed, quickly bowing. "We owe you, Deputy Commander Yang. Otherwise, we would have erred and implicated our families."

"We are brothers—no need for such words. But defeated soldiers are everywhere, some pillaging villages. I hope you’ll restrain them. Li Zhenggu, High Commander Gao, and Commander Zhu are all safe—they’ll be here in a couple hours. We must not disgrace ourselves before them." Yang Lian slipped the dagger into a wrist sheath.

"Rest assured, Deputy Commander. We’ll rein in our men," they said, forgetting Yang Lian was only a deputy while they were captains or commanders.

Yang Lian nodded. "There are too many troops camped by Changzhou—no doubt the city’s defenders and people are anxious. While it’s still early, let’s withdraw ten miles, fell trees, and build camp. This will settle the soldiers and allow us to regroup. If Wu-Yue attacks, we can redeem ourselves."

"Indeed—we are Tang soldiers; our duty is to defend our homeland," one said.

Another looked troubled, but had to speak up. "We have no food or tents—how can we settle the troops? The weather isn’t cold, so perhaps tents can be managed, but without food the soldiers will surely complain."

Everyone paused. The food shortage was indeed critical. The mutiny had begun because, after fleeing, most supplies were lost, leaving nothing to eat. Some resorted to robbery and murder, causing chaos.

Yang Lian waved his hand. "Leave it to me. As long as you withdraw ten miles as agreed, within two or three hours I’ll bring enough food and tents."

The group bowed as one. "Thank you, Deputy Commander Yang."