Han Ji

The stench of blood from Wild Boar Ridge and Eagle Beak Ravine hadn't yet dissipated, but medicine was already being brewed in Shuxian County. In the wounded soldiers' camp, there were groans and groans, but Liu Bei, with his right arm in a sling, looked relatively well.

Lu Zhi lifted the curtain and came in, bringing with him a cool autumn breeze. He first checked Liu Bei's arm: "Are you really alright?"

"My bones are fine, just a muscle strain, but it'll be healed quickly." Liu Bei clenched his fist. "How's the situation in the mountains?"

Lu Zhi dragged over a small stool and sat down, his boots splattered with mud. "Pan Du is finished, and Black Wind Cave has collapsed. But he's not the only one in the mountains."

He unfolded a crookedly drawn map of the mountains and pointed at it with his finger: "Baishuidong, Qingmudong, and a few smaller ones. They didn't put all their effort into Yezhuling, and Yingzuijian didn't even show up. They're all just watching."

Liu used his uninjured left hand to support himself as he leaned closer to look. "They're terrified. They're afraid we'll get a free hand and deal with them one by one."

"Clean up?" Lu Zhi gave a wry smile, pointing to the empty area outside the camp. "What are we going to use to clean up? There are less than seven hundred of them left to fight. They're all wounded."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "The imperial court's reinforcements are nonexistent. We'll have to scrape together all our own money and supplies."

Liu Bei fell silent. The battle was won, but his resources were depleted. Lujiang was now a shell, held up only by Lu Zhi's reputation and his newly acquired fearsome name.

"We have to make them come to us on their own." Liu Bei stared at the several village and stronghold markers on the map. "If we can't fight them, then...we'll just have to retreat."

"Pull?" Lu Zhi looked up at him. "Pull with what?"

Liu Bei pointed to the map with his left hand, "Salt, iron, cloth, and... medicine for treating wounds."

Lujiang lacks these things, and the mountains lack them even more. Salt and iron, in particular, are vital. Before the anti-drug operation, the only way to keep people in check was through robbery, by smuggling goods from the city by that chopped-off black hand.

Lu Zhi tapped his fingers on his knee without saying a word.

Liu Bei continued, "Tell them to surrender. The past can be disregarded. From now on, they shall exchange mountain goods and furs for salt and iron according to our agreed-upon quotas. They shall abide by our rules and be under our protection."

"Protect?" Lu Zhi raised an eyebrow.

"In name only," Liu Bei said. "Just give them a nominal title to make them feel secure. It's impossible to actually call them out to fight right now. Let's stabilize the situation and catch our breath."

Lu Zhi stared at the map for a long time before uttering a single word: "Alright."

He stood up and patted Liu Bei's uninjured shoulder: "You decide on the personnel. You set the rules. I'll back you up."

The curtain fell, taking away the light. Liu Bei leaned against the cold earthen wall, his left fingers unconsciously tracing patterns on his knee. The muscles in his right arm throbbed with pain.

Winning them over, dividing them, feeding them—this job is more mentally taxing than fighting a war.

The messengers left quietly in the middle of the night. One was an old official, a seasoned local with a silver tongue, named Hu San. The other was a minor leader from Black Wind Cave who had surrendered from Eagle Beak Gorge, named Yan Bao, who knew the local dialects and customs of the various caves in the mountains.

The gifts he brought were not heavy: a few packets of fine salt, some thick cloth, and a small jar of wound medicine. But his words were weighty: this is a one-time offer; once it's gone, it won't come again.

Liu Bei, with his arm in a sling, met them in the backyard of the prefectural government office. No lamps were lit, only moonlight filtering in through the windows.

"Courtesy is the key to opening doors." Liu Bei's voice wasn't loud, but it struck the ground with a heavy tone. "Words must be made clear. Submitting doesn't mean making them our dogs; it means giving them a way to survive. Salt, iron, cloth, and medicine will be provided from now on. But they must exchange goods for them and abide by our laws."

He glanced at the two men: "If you still think about burning, killing, and looting like the Pan Du, then wait until you run out of salt and iron and starve to death in the mountains. No matter how poor Lujiang is, we can wear them down by tightening our belts."

Hu San bowed deeply and nodded repeatedly. Yan Bao, on the other hand, stood straight, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He had only recently surrendered, and now he was going back to act as an envoy, his heart pounding with anxiety.

"What's there to be afraid of!" Zhang Wu, who was standing with his arms crossed, spat. "Pan Du's head is still hanging on the flagpole! You're working for Lord Lu now, so stand up straight!"

Rock Leopard shuddered, took a deep breath, and nodded heavily.

The people were gone, and the courtyard was empty. Liu Bei looked up at the sky; the moon was cold and icy. He knew that threats and empty promises wouldn't work; he needed to show them tangible benefits.

He turned and went back into the house, lit the oil lamp, and spread out the bamboo slips. He needed to quickly finalize the details of the exchange, as well as the binding terms after submission. How much salt to give, how to exchange the iron, which mountain products could be used as collateral... trivial details, but not a single mistake could be made.

My right arm hurts whenever I move it, so I rely entirely on my left hand. My handwriting is okay, but it's slow.

The servant tiptoed in and placed a bowl of steaming millet porridge on the table. "Sir, please have something to eat."

Liu Bei hummed in response, without raising his head. The steam from the porridge warmed his face, bringing a touch of weariness. He shook his head and continued carving.

The rules, forged under the dim light of this lamp, are the first soft knife plunged into the mountains.

Hu San and Yan Bao returned faster than expected.

In just five days, the two men, covered in dew and chill, stood before Lu Zhi and Liu Bei.

"Baishuidong and Qingmudong, we have a chance!" Hu San's face was filled with barely suppressed excitement, spittle flying everywhere. "They're scared! Really scared! Especially after the news of Pan Du's death spread, those village chiefs turned pale."

Yan Bao added, in broken official jargon: "They...want to see high-ranking officials. They want to...take an oath."

"See me?" Lu Zhi snorted. "Tell them to get the hell out of here in Shuxian County!"

Liu Bei gently shook his head: "Teacher, no. They are suspicious. If we let them go down the mountain, they will think we are setting up a trap."

He looked at Rock Leopard: "Where did they say they'd meet?"

"Blackwater Ravine," Rock Leopard said, "between the two caves, there's an old altar. It's spacious and...fair."

Lu Zhi remained silent, deep in thought. For a commander to rashly enter dangerous territory is a cardinal sin in military strategy.

"Your student should go," Liu Bei said calmly. "Your teacher is stationed in Shuxian to stabilize the situation. I will lead a team of guards to represent you in the oath-taking ceremony. This will show our sincerity and let them know that even without Zhang the Butcher, Lujiang will not eat pigs with hair on."

Lu Zhi stared at him, his gaze sharp: "Your arm..."

"It's good to keep him hanging." Liu Bei smirked. "Let them see that even with an injured arm, I can still handle a plate of poison."

Lu Zhi finally nodded. "Take Zhang Wu's team with you. Be smart. If things go wrong, save yourselves first."

On the eve of his departure, Liu Bei silently recited the oath of alliance several times. He added extra gifts to the package, including salt, iron cloth, and several iron pots. These were scarce in the mountains; they were far superior to earthenware pots for cooking rice and soup.

Zhang Wu led fifty elite veterans, each with fierce eyes and gleaming armor. They weren't there to fight; they were there to provide support.

As dawn broke, the group quietly left the south gate and disappeared into the misty mountains.