Chapter Forty-Six: The Scheme

Xu Kang had stayed in Chenliu for nearly a month. Aside from the first few days, when Zhang Miao’s attitude was relatively enthusiastic, the rest of his time could only be described as perfunctory and cold. Xu Kang understood this well—after all, he was a guest under someone else’s roof. He hadn’t pledged allegiance to Zhang Miao, nor was he one of his subordinates, yet here he was, eating and living off his host. Expecting warm hospitality in such circumstances was clearly unreasonable.

He had no doubt that if he hadn’t willingly surrendered the merits he’d gained earlier and brought Zhang Miao twenty thousand Yellow Turban prisoners, the man’s attitude would have been far worse than mere indifference. Such was the reality, and it was the same in every era.

To be fair, Xu Kang was not the type to tolerate others’ moods. But the horseshoes still hadn’t been finished, the Tiger Squat Cannons weren’t fully cast, the purchased saltpeter and sulfur hadn’t yet been processed into gunpowder, and the Yellow Turban Army outside the city remained watchful. How could he leave?

So, he chose to ignore Zhang Miao’s attitude, even feigning illness to decline several invitations, all to avoid giving his host the chance to formally expel him. Thus, Xu Kang endured, thick-skinned and resolute, lingering in Chenliu for a month until he had finally used up all thirty thousand pounds of iron he’d obtained from Zhang Miao, transforming it into real fighting power.

Over three thousand sets of horseshoes were now fitted onto the hooves of his warhorses, and more than four hundred Tiger Squat Cannons had been distributed to his soldiers at a ratio of one to three, converting his original infantry into artillerymen.

Now, Xu Kang commanded over four thousand men. For ease of management, he divided them into three regiments: two cavalry regiments and one artillery regiment. Each cavalry regiment was a standard unit, boasting over fifteen hundred riders. As Xu Kang’s trusted men, Zhao Hong and Zhang Cheng naturally became the regimental commanders.

Xu Kang himself commanded the artillery regiment—not out of fear, but because he felt that directing from the rear suited his “scholar” persona better than fighting on the front lines.

With everything prepared, it was time for a carefree departure. Though he knew Zhang Miao had long wished for him to leave, Xu Kang couldn’t simply slip away without a word; that would be discourteous. So, he went to bid Zhang Miao farewell in person—even if he knew it was merely a formality.

Learning that Xu Kang was preparing to leave, Zhang Miao was, of course, delighted, but outwardly he put on a show of reluctance and repeatedly urged Xu Kang to stay. Xu Kang inwardly despised this hypocrisy and was tempted to accept the “invitation,” just to see the man’s reaction. But he merely entertained the idea; he would never actually do so—not just because he disliked placating others, but more importantly, he was eager to ride the coattails of Huangfu Song’s achievements.

“Compared to mooching off a local big shot, winning effortlessly in Changshe County is more important. That’s my territory, and as for Zhang Miao, there’ll be plenty of chances to deal with him later!”

With this thought, he exchanged a few polite words with Zhang Miao, then, that very night, led his men out of Chenliu.

His choice of a nighttime departure was not only for the cool evening air; more crucially, it was to evade the Yellow Turban Army’s encirclement.

Currently, Peng Tuo seemed dead set on Chenliu, garrisoning a hundred thousand Yellow Turban troops outside the city. The outermost tents of the Yellow Turban Army were less than two hundred meters from the city gates.

Under such circumstances, if Xu Kang left during the day, he would have to confront Peng Tuo head-on—a clearly unwise move. By contrast, leaving at night was different; even if they were discovered, Peng Tuo would hardly risk a reckless pursuit under cover of darkness.

“If he dares, I’ll give him a real beating!”

With that in mind, Xu Kang immediately issued orders to Zhao Hong and Zhang Cheng.

“Zhao Hong, Zhang Cheng, once we’re out of the city, head east. If the Yellow Turban Army pursues us, lead your cavalry regiments toward the banks of the Huai River. Try to lure them into crossing the river after you. When they do, I’ll hit them from behind and teach them what true pain feels like!”

They laughed heartily, understanding all too well what he meant. Together, they clasped their fists in salute.

“As you command!”

With that, the two led their cavalry regiments out first.

The movement of three thousand cavalry was impossible to ignore, immediately alerting the Yellow Turban Army encamped outside the city.

Peng Tuo had besieged Chenliu for a month, aiming to prevent reinforcements from reaching Changshe or returning to Luoyang. He had stationed heavy forces in the west and erected many barricades. But he hadn’t expected the enemy to break out eastward. He was momentarily stunned, then burst out laughing.

“Ha! The Huai River blocks the east, and if the Han army flees that way, they’re courting death. Pass the order: everyone, follow me…”

He was just about to command his troops to pursue, but suddenly he paused, frowning.

“No, the Han army surely knows the Huai River is impassable, especially at night with no boats. Why would they head east? Is there some trick?”

His expression shifted to uncertainty. But no matter how he pondered, he couldn’t see what scheme the enemy might employ. He slapped his thigh and snorted.

“Hmph. The Han army must be desperate, trying to lure our cavalry away so their messengers can slip off to Luoyang for help. Yes, that must be it!”

He waved his hand and issued new orders.

“All troops, leave fifty thousand men to guard the west of Chenliu—don’t let anyone escape. The rest, follow me! Today, we’ll drown the Han army in the Huai River!”

“Yes, Chief!”

Upon hearing Peng Tuo’s orders, the Yellow Turban leaders promptly responded and moved out with him.

...

Meanwhile, Zhao Hong and Zhang Cheng, seeing the Yellow Turbans pursue as Xu Kang had predicted, quickly joined forces and led their followers toward the Huai River.

Mounted soldiers could outpace infantry, but to ensure the Yellow Turbans followed, and to convince them that they were truly on their last legs, Zhao Hong and Zhang Cheng staged several mock breakouts before “retreating” to the riverbank.

Thus, the two groups ran all night, finally reaching the banks of the Huai River as dawn approached.

After a long night’s ordeal, Zhao Hong and his cavalry, aided by their mounts, fared better, but the Yellow Turban soldiers, relying solely on their legs, were utterly exhausted.

Starving and weary, they now only wanted to drive the cavalry into the river and return for food and rest.

Peng Tuo understood his men’s sentiments, so when he saw the “cornered” Han cavalry, he raised his hand.

“Form ranks! Don’t let a single Han soldier escape! Archers forward—fire!”

At his command, the Yellow Turban Army quickly formed ranks. Hundreds of archers stepped forward, bows ready, aimed at Zhao Hong and his men by the river.

But before they could loose their arrows, a thunderous explosion erupted behind them.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

With the thunder’s roar, the rear ranks of the Yellow Turban Army fell like wheat cut down, collapsing in swathes. Only a few died instantly; most writhed in agony, crying out in despair.

“Aaah... my eyes... my eyes!”

“My leg... my leg!”

“Help me... please help me...”

The screams from the rear swelled into a chorus, throwing the front ranks into panic. Even the archers, who had been ready to fire, instinctively halted and looked back.

Seeing this, Zhao Hong and Zhang Cheng rejoiced, roaring aloud.

“Brothers! Master Xu has arrived with the artillery regiment to support us! Today we will wipe out the Yellow Turban traitors—attack!”

“Attack!”