Chapter 50: The Three Cavalry Generals

“Though His Majesty has promised us support with warhorses, armor, and weaponry, he has not specified the exact numbers. For now, we remain in the dark as to whether these supplies will suffice. Nonetheless, we cannot avoid considering in advance whether they will meet our needs. If we are to develop cavalry in Shanggu and pursue a thorough strategy, it seems inevitable that we must also rely on our own efforts to some extent. Fortunately, His Majesty has delegated some authority to us, so we will not be entirely hamstrung in our actions. Last battle, we lost five thousand men in the camp; replenishing those numbers will require some flexibility. Yet training so many new soldiers is no simple matter. Each of these issues carries great weight, and in the days ahead, you and I shall have more than enough to keep us busy.” After dismissing the other generals, Li Guang kept Qin Cheng back to speak with him privately.

“There are currently two thousand cavalrymen in camp,” Qin Cheng mused. “Select the most skilled among them to form the core of our new training cadre. As for warhorses, armor, and weapons, it depends on how many cavalrymen you intend to develop. We can draw cavalry candidates from among the three to four thousand infantry and charioteers already in service.”

“That’s only natural,” Li Guang replied. “As for the number of cavalry, I believe that since we are now making a deliberate push to expand our mounted forces, we should aim high—forge a force of ten thousand ironclad riders!”

“Ten thousand?” Qin Cheng was taken aback, then smiled. “The General is indeed ambitious. If we truly can form such a cavalry, we’ll have a real advantage the next time we face the Xiongnu. Still, I worry that we might not be able to absorb such a large force all at once.”

“If not all at once, then bite by bite—surely we can manage,” Li Guang said, unwavering. “With our current camp supplies, aside from the issue of horses, we can equip four or five thousand cavalrymen without difficulty. Add His Majesty’s assistance, and we should reach six or seven thousand. These, plus the three to four thousand charioteers and infantry, will compose the present force. Later, once our equipment is complete, we can fill out the roster with His Majesty’s additional allowance of three thousand men. Then, the garrison at Shanggu will be a force to make the Xiongnu tremble at the mere mention of its name!”

By the end, Li Guang’s voice had grown impassioned.

“Your arrangements are sound; I have no objections,” Qin Cheng said. “But how do you intend to organize the three to four thousand charioteers and infantry?”

“Against the Xiongnu cavalry, too few heavy infantry would be useless—only adding to the casualties. I believe we need retain only enough heavy infantry for city defense; they need not face cavalry in the field. The charioteers and their supporting infantry can also be reduced, though the number of chariots should remain unchanged. As you’ve said before, chariots are invaluable for defense. The remaining quotas can go toward longbow-armed light infantry—two or three thousand of them. Though they cannot raid over long distances, in supporting cavalry charges and defensive formations, their value is significant.”

“Your plans are carefully considered; I need say no more,” Qin Cheng replied with admiration. “But these changes are momentous—there’s no turning back for us.”

Li Guang waved his hand. “If we do not succeed, we will die with honor. If we can destroy the Xiongnu and end the threat to Han’s borders, what would I care for my own life or reputation?” He paused, then continued, “Cavalry training is a complex task, and the burden of carrying it out falls to you, Qin. I may direct the overall changes, but the cavalry depends on your hands-on leadership. The success or failure of this reform rests directly on the quality of your cavalry training.”

“I will devote myself to the task!” Qin Cheng said, bowing.

…

The development of Shanggu’s cavalry was finally about to begin, and Qin Cheng could not help feeling some excitement. Since arriving in this era, his fortunes had been closely tied to the mounted troops.

Over the past few days, he had discussed many matters with the officers and met with senior officials in the county seat, gaining a rough outline of the steps needed to develop the cavalry. The plan was now largely set. In summary, the main tasks at this stage included: first, selecting the most skilled from the existing two thousand cavalry to serve as temporary instructors for new recruits—he and Li Guang agreed to choose five hundred, a number sufficient for the first round of training. Second, selecting suitable cavalry from among the three to four thousand charioteers and infantry, with the number to be determined based on circumstances—between one and two thousand, with the main criteria being skill and age. Older men would not be chosen, and skill requirements could be relaxed for younger candidates. Third, drafting newly enlisted conscripts to fill out the cavalry, with a higher proportion chosen from among the strong, agile, and quick-witted—given time, they could become competent riders. Fourth, securing warhorses, armor, and weapons, dependent mainly on allocations from the court. Fifth, organizing the training itself, which would be conducted in batches, with separate regimes for veterans and newcomers.

On this day, Cavalry Colonel Qin Cheng formally assumed his post, taking command of all mounted troops. The three cavalry captains currently in camp all reported to his tent for orders: Ji Zhu, Zhao Lu, and Ma Dashan. Qin Cheng already knew Ji Zhu well—they had survived the previous battle together and shared some camaraderie. Zhao Lu and Ma Dashan had previously served under Li Xi, so Qin Cheng had not met them during the last campaign, and though this was not their first meeting, he had little personal impression of them.

“We salute the Cavalry Colonel!” the three brawny men said as they entered, bowing with fists clasped.

Seated behind his desk, with several scrolls laid out in front of him, Qin Cheng rested his right elbow on his knee and his left hand on his other knee, looking at the three. Once the formalities were complete, he spoke directly: “There’s no need to stand on ceremony. I am newly appointed and unfamiliar with many matters in the camp, so I may make mistakes; I hope you will not hesitate to advise me. Each of you has served here longer than I have. By imperial order, I am to develop our cavalry—our mission is to forge a force of iron riders worthy of His Majesty’s trust. As the backbone of our mounted troops, your responsibilities are no lighter than mine. The frontier has suffered Xiongnu incursions for sixty or seventy years—no need to recount the humiliation and hatred. I wish to join with you to strengthen the Han army and destroy the Xiongnu. Do you agree with me?”

“We are willing to follow General Qin, forge our iron cavalry, and destroy the Xiongnu!” they declared together.

Qin Cheng nodded and continued, “I have my own ways of managing the troops—essentially, strict discipline. All military regulations will be enforced without exception. I trust in your abilities, but in the army, there are always cunning individuals or those who make mistakes. I ask that you remain vigilant. Should I discover any such cases, I will apply military law without mercy, judging only the results, not the excuses. Do you have any questions?”

“None,” the three replied. Qin Cheng’s words were basic military common sense, and they had no objections. Qin Cheng understood this as well, but seeing their indifferent expressions, he pressed on: “As Sun Tzu said: ‘If the constraints are unclear and the orders unfamiliar, it is the general’s fault. If the orders are clear and the laws known but not obeyed, it is the fault of the officers and men.’ Have you understood this?”

All three started, their earlier ease vanishing, and they responded solemnly, “We understand!”

There was a story behind Qin Cheng’s use of Sun Tzu’s words.

After writing his Art of War, Sun Tzu went to present it to King Helü of Wu. The king was impressed and asked Sun Tzu to demonstrate his command in person. Sun Tzu agreed readily. On a whim, the king ordered Sun Tzu to train his concubines as soldiers. Before him stood 180 palace women, led by the king’s two favorite concubines as captains. Sun Tzu divided them into two groups, appointed the captains, and began the drill. He gave them halberds, explained the commands repeatedly, and stationed the executioners by their side. The women agreed, but when Sun Tzu issued his first order, they all burst out laughing, ignoring him. Sun Tzu declared, “If the constraints are unclear and the orders unfamiliar, it is the general’s fault!” He repeated the orders and tried again; once more, the women laughed and refused to comply. This time, Sun Tzu pronounced, “If the constraints are unclear and the orders unfamiliar, it is the general’s fault. If the orders are clear and the laws known but not obeyed, it is the fault of the officers and men.” He then, over the king’s protests, executed the two favorite concubines. After that, the women obeyed every command.

Qin Cheng’s meaning was the same. He knew the army was not a bastion of purity, that personal ties existed, but to forge an iron army, discipline must be ironclad. Without strict discipline, there can be no tenacious fighting spirit. To build such a force, he must first forge a cadre of instructors embodying that discipline—leaders leading by example, enforcing the laws, so that the army may be properly trained. On a grand scale, this was for the destruction of the Xiongnu; on a personal level, it was essential to Qin Cheng’s own survival—there could be no carelessness.

“Among you, I am most familiar with General Ji Zhu. Generals Zhao and Ma, I do not know as well, but from now on, we will spend our days together building this iron cavalry, and will grow accustomed to one another. In time, you will understand my ways, and all things will become clear. For now, General Ji, tell me about your unit’s situation.”

“Yes, sir!” Ji Zhu answered, saluting. Of the three, he was closest to Qin Cheng and most respected his abilities. He reported honestly: “After the last battle, my unit of one thousand was reduced to twenty-three. Only eighteen are fit for further service. Though few, all are elite. Upon hearing that we would be training new recruits, every man volunteered to serve as a temporary instructor. I ask the General’s approval.”

Qin Cheng nodded solemnly. “In the last battle, your men sacrificed greatly to protect the infantry—had you not fought to the end, we might all have perished at Hulu Valley. Your unit has earned the right to this honor, and your willingness to contribute further is commendable. I have no reason to refuse. For this round of training, your entire unit will serve as instructors!”

“Thank you, General!” Ji Zhu replied with a powerful salute.

These eighteen riders had all witnessed Qin Cheng’s feats in battle—slaying the enemy Left Bone Commander, fighting the Left Wise King—and had shared life and death with him. His authority among them was unmatched. They would carry out his orders with the utmost dedication. Not only would he make them the core of his instructor cadre, but in time, they would become the backbone of Shanggu’s iron cavalry—the very heart of the army.

“General Zhao?” Qin Cheng continued.

“Following your earlier instructions, my unit has selected two hundred and fifty cavalrymen, mostly officers, suitable for training new recruits,” Zhao Lu reported, bowing.

Qin Cheng nodded and turned to Ma Dashan. “And your unit?”

“My unit is much the same as General Zhao’s—most of our officers have been assigned to train new recruits,” Ma Dashan replied.

Qin Cheng nodded again but did not comment immediately. Instead, he asked, “Assigning officers as instructors certainly raises the calibre of the cadre. But have you considered—if most officers are reassigned, how will we respond if the Xiongnu attack?”

“That’s simple!” Ma Dashan, who was rather blunt, answered at once. “If the Xiongnu come, we’ll just reassign the officers and instructors back to their units!” He looked at Qin Cheng expectantly, as if hoping for approval.

Qin Cheng gave a slight smile and turned to Zhao Lu. “And what do you think, General Zhao?”

Zhao Lu considered for a moment before replying, “Recalling the instructors during battle would be problematic.”

“Oh? Why so?” Qin Cheng pressed.

“It would be too slow and complicated. The situation on the battlefield changes in an instant. If our troops cannot respond immediately, it would be a grave mistake,” Zhao Lu replied.

Qin Cheng nodded. “Please, continue.”

“Yes, sir,” Zhao Lu said, frowning in thought. “Moreover, if officers are long separated from their units and only return at the last moment, command and coordination will surely suffer. Such risks cannot be ignored.”

Having heard Zhao Lu out, Qin Cheng turned back to Ma Dashan. “What do you think of General Zhao’s assessment?”

Ma Dashan flushed, bowing awkwardly. “I did not think it through. Please do not mock me, General.”

“I would never mock anyone here, nor any soldier in this army,” Qin Cheng said sternly. “You are the backbone of our force. At crucial moments, your decisions carry the fate of a thousand men—one misstep could doom us all. I do not exaggerate. Recall the last battle with the Xiongnu—if there had been a single oversight, the defenders of Qiansang might have lost their commander, or ceased to exist altogether.”

Ma Dashan felt even more ashamed—though he was inwardly dissatisfied, there was no fault to be found in Qin Cheng’s words.

Qin Cheng ignored Ma Dashan’s embarrassment and continued, “General Zhao is absolutely correct. Therefore, those chosen as instructors may be officers, but not mainline commanders. That way, the units’ command structure will not be disrupted in the event of war.”

There was another point he did not voice: these non-command officers, after training the new recruits, would remain with the fresh troops as their new leaders. This would not only strengthen the army but also ensure that those officers, having received Qin Cheng’s favor, would follow his orders without hesitation.

“The Xiongnu have just suffered a heavy defeat. They might not dare invade again for several years—aren’t you being a bit too cautious, General Qin?” Ma Dashan grumbled. He was clearly displeased with being told to redo his assignments; had Qin Cheng said so from the start, he would not have objected, but changing the plan now irked him.

Qin Cheng could hardly be blamed—his inexperience with camp affairs had only just led him to this realization.

“A commander must think first of defeat, not victory! Or do you propose we wait until the Xiongnu have burned Han villages before we act?” Qin Cheng rebuked him, showing no leniency. “Besides, the Xiongnu, stung by defeat, will surely nurse a grudge. They avenged their loss at Mayi—how do you know they won’t seek revenge for their recent rout?”

Ma Dashan was left speechless—ashamed and frustrated, but unable to argue. He could only mutter, “I spoke out of turn…”