Han Ji

Chapter 160 The Yellow Heaven Re-establishes itself (Part 1)

Xi Jian then looked at Chen Bo: "You, go and urge the powerful local magnates in each prefecture to provide manpower and provisions. Tell them that if Prime Minister Ma attacks, no one will have an easy time!"

Chen Bo bowed: "Yes."

"Also," Xi Jian rubbed his temples, "send a letter to Liu Bei in Hanzhong, saying... there's trouble in Yizhou, ask him to help defend the Micang Road, and prevent the rebels from spreading to Hanzhong."

One of the subordinate officials was taken aback: "My lord, Liu Bei is the Commandant of Hanzhong, he doesn't have jurisdiction over Yizhou..."

"We have to intervene, even if we can't!" Xi Jian slammed his hand on the table. "He effectively controls Hanzhong now and has troops at his disposal. Even if we don't send troops, it'll be good to bolster his image and let Prime Minister Ma know that someone in the north is watching him!"

The subordinates quickly took notes.

Xi Jian waved his hand: "Get to work!"

After everyone left, only Xi Jian remained in the hall.

He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and felt a splitting headache.

Horse appearance...

How dare a salt worker foreman, a lowly commoner?

Is this some kind of Heavenly General, imitating Zhang Jiao?

Xi Jian suddenly recalled the public grievances reported from below when the salt tax was increased last year. He hadn't paid much attention to it then; salt workers were lowly people, and killing them would make them behave.

Now it seems things have blown up.

He opened his eyes and looked outside the hall.

The sky is overcast; it looks like it's going to snow again.

Ten miles outside Fuxian County, Ma Xiang's camp was set up on a river beach.

The tents were made of stolen cloth and straw mats, crooked and uneven, but there were many of them, a vast expanse of white, stretching for two miles along the riverbank. The camp was noisy with people cooking, sharpening knives, gambling, and fighting; they were all newly arrived refugees who didn't know the rules.

The central command tent was a large cloth tent, lined with dry straw. Ma Xiang sat on the straw pile, with a simple map spread out in front of him, which Wu Si had snatched from a village school teacher's house.

"Master Ma," Wu Si pointed to Fuxian on the map, "Zhang Ren has brought three thousand county soldiers to defend this place. If we launch a direct attack, the casualties will be considerable."

Ma Xiang remained silent.

He stared at the map, tapped the location of Fuxian County with his finger, and then swiped towards the county.

After capturing Mianzhu, his forces swelled like a snowball. Now he had nearly ten thousand men under his command, but only five hundred were truly elite—his old comrades who had followed him from the salt wells. The rest were refugees, bankrupt farmers, and local ruffians who had taken advantage of the chaos to join him; they were undisciplined, but numerous and powerful.

With more people, food consumption also increases. The 8,000 shi of grain in the Mianzhu warehouse is almost gone.

We must capture Luo County; the state granaries contain grain, money, and weapons.

"Zhang Ren..." Ma Xiang murmured, "I've heard of him, he's a tough nut to crack."

"He's more than just a tough nut to crack." Wu Si lowered his voice. "This man comes from the Zhang family of Shu County. He served in the army for two years and suppressed mountain bandits. The county soldiers he leads are the most elite in Yizhou."

Ma Xiang looked up at him: "Then tell me, how do we fight?"

Wu Si rubbed his hands together: "We have more people, so we'll besiege the city. Fuxian is a small city with limited food supplies. If we besiege it for a month, it will fall on its own."

"A month?" Ma Xiang shook his head. "We can't wait a month. The food is running out, and morale will collapse."

He paused, then continued, "Moreover... Mr. Liu said before he left that we must act quickly. The faster we fight, the less time the imperial court will have to react."

Wu Si fell silent.

Ma Xiang got up, walked to the tent entrance, and lifted the curtain.

Outside, the camp of tens of thousands of people was in chaos, but there was a wild vitality about it. Firelight flickered, voices clamored, and in the distance, people were singing folk songs, the tunes completely off-key.

He looked at it for a while, then turned around.

"Send word: attack the city first thing tomorrow morning."

Wu Si was startled: "Master Ma, we haven't even built many siege ladders..."

"No need for siege ladders." Ma Xiang walked back to the map, tracing the city wall of Fuxian with his finger. "Zhang Ren will defend the city, so he will definitely focus on the north gate, because that's the direction we came from. What about the south gate? The south gate is next to the river, the city wall is low, and there are fewer soldiers guarding it."

He raised his eyes: "We'll openly attack the north gate, while secretly raiding the south gate."

Wu Si's eyes lit up: "A feint attack?"

"Right." Ma Xiang grinned, the scar on his face twitching. "Find five hundred good swimmers to swim across the river tonight and lie in ambush in the reeds outside the South Gate. When the battle begins at the North Gate tomorrow, the South Gate garrison will surely be sent to reinforce it. That will be our opportunity."

Wu Si nodded repeatedly: "Brilliant! Master Ma is wise!"

Ma Xiang waved his hand: "Go pick the men. Old brothers, quick-witted, and tight-lipped."

"yes!"

Wu Si left the tent.

Ma Xiang sat alone on a haystack, staring at Luo County on the map.

Once Fuxian is captured, Luoxian will be within reach.

Xi Jian. . . .

He recalled the resentful look in his brother's eyes when he died.

almost.

The next day, at Chen Shi (7-9 AM).

Outside the north gate of Fuxian County, the sound of drums resounded.

Ma Xiangqin led three thousand men, who arrayed themselves beneath the city walls. Twenty makeshift siege ladders, simply bundled bamboo with wet cowhide wrapped around the front, were placed in front of the lines. There were also a dozen or so battering chariots, crudely constructed from dismantled doors and beams of civilian houses, nailed together on the spot, but sturdy nonetheless.

On the city wall, Zhang Ren stood with his hand on his sword.

He was in his early twenties, with a square face, thick beard, and his armor gleaming. Looking at the dark mass of rebel soldiers below the city, a smirk played on his lips.

mob.

Their formation was scattered, their flags were askew, and their weapons were a motley collection. How dare they attack a city like this?

"General," the lieutenant whispered, "judging by their formation, there must be three thousand men."

"Three thousand?" Zhang Ren sneered. "Three thousand pigs, that's all. Order the archers to prepare. When they're within a hundred paces, fire in unison."

"yes!"

Below the city walls, Ma Xiang raised his ring-pommel sword.

"Attack the city!"

The drumbeats became more urgent.

Three thousand men charged forward, howling. The sounds of footsteps, shouts, and clashing weapons blended together, shaking the ground.

Arrows rained down from the city walls.

The first volley of arrows felled dozens. But those behind, stepping over the corpses of their comrades, continued their charge. Ladders were erected on the city walls, and the rebel soldiers, biting their knives, climbed up using both hands and feet.

The defenders threw logs and stones down, and poured hot oil on them. Screams filled the air as corpses fell like dumplings being dropped into a pot.

The battle was fierce.

Zhang Ren personally supervised the battle from the city walls, and wherever the situation became critical, he would call in reserves to reinforce the defenses. The thousand-strong garrison at the north gate was driven back into a corner, but their lines remained intact.

Half an hour later, the rebels' first attack was repelled.

They abandoned more than two hundred corpses and retreated a mile away to regroup.

Zhang Ren wiped the blood off his face; it was splattered blood, not his own.

"Is that all you've got?" he scoffed.

The lieutenant also laughed: "General, you are incredibly brave."

Just then, a rapid bell rang out from the direction of the south gate—an alarm bell.

Zhang Ren's expression changed.

"Something's happened at the South Gate! Quickly, send 500 men there!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a messenger scrambled up to report: "General! The south gate has been breached! The rebels swam across the river and took advantage of the situation to storm the city!"

Zhang Ren's mind went blank.

A feint attack?

We've fallen for their trap!

He drew his sword: "Personnel guards, follow me to the south gate!"

But it's too late.

With the south gate breached, the rebel army surged into the city like a tidal wave. The defending troops were attacked from both sides, and their morale collapsed. When the defenders at the north gate heard that the south gate had fallen, they immediately scattered, some running into the city and others jumping off the walls.

Ma Xiang saw the commotion on the city walls from outside the city and knew he had succeeded.

He raised his knife again: "Charge in! Capture Zhang Ren alive!"

The rebels launched a second attack, but this time they encountered little resistance. The north gate was quickly breached, and the rebels poured in.