024 Fact and Fiction

As the person approaching from beneath the city walls drew nearer, Wang Lanping saw clearly that the young man was a man of his word; he had truly come.

Below the walls, Li Laiheng stood with two personal guards, looking up with his head held high.

"General Wang, why go to such lengths? Wouldn't it be better to come out of the city for a brief meeting?" Li Laiheng called out to the ramparts. Looking at the Ming soldiers above, he felt a flicker of surprise. It truly lived up to the old saying: a weak general leads a weak army, but a strong general inspires a strong following. The Ming troops were few in number, yet they maintained such high morale—it was rare, truly rare. It was a pity this man could not be recruited for the Great Shun Dynasty; otherwise, they could have shared a drink and discussed the tides of the world together.

Wang Lanping surveyed the scene outside the city. All was quiet; there was no sudden flapping of night birds. Below were only the three men and the vast, dark mass of horses behind them. In a standoff between two armies, one could not easily trust anyone; being extra cautious was never a bad thing.

Certain that there was no immediate danger, Wang Lanping took Zheng Sen and a few attendants out of the city. The two sides met.

"Where are the horses?" Wang Lanping asked, getting straight to the point.

"In such a hurry? Shall we not chat?" Li Laiheng replied.

"There is nothing to discuss. Professionally speaking, the only way we communicate is through blades. As for personal friendship, that will have to wait until the world is at peace—if you are still alive by then, we can sit and talk at length." Wang Lanping remained alert to any changes in the surroundings. He could not afford a single mistake; if the enemy took this opportunity to storm the city, it would be no laughing matter. His tone remained firm, showing not a shred of weakness.

Li Laiheng laughed aloud. "Hahaha! General, your words are blunt, but I, too, look forward to that day."

Wang Lanping did not want to linger outside the city. The darker it became, the greater the danger. To those defending a city, the night is like the Grim Reaper; one never knew if the enemy might sneak in, making defense impossible to maintain.

Wang Lanping said, "Leave the horses and you may go. By tomorrow morning, this city will be yours. Remember your word: do not kill or plunder a single household or a single person."

Li Laiheng nodded. "I have said it: I want Huaining City, and I am not a butcher who slaughters the innocent." He turned his horse to leave, then paused and looked back at Wang Lanping. "By the way, I still want to say this: six hundred horses are a trifle. If you come with me to see the Emperor of Great Shun and pledge your true allegiance, never mind six hundred—you could have six thousand, sixty thousand. You need only nod your head."

Wang Lanping replied, "Rest assured, tell Li Zicheng to keep them for me for now. Sooner or later, I will come to collect them." His words carried a provocative edge, as if the Emperor of the Great Shun Dynasty meant nothing in his eyes.

Li Laiheng, having expected such a reply, smiled faintly, cupped his hands, and said, "Hmph, until we meet again."

"Wait," Wang Lanping remembered something.

"What is it?"

Wang Lanping rode a few steps forward. The guards beside Li Laiheng immediately reached for their swords, fearing the newcomer might harm their commander.

Li Laiheng reined in his horse, signaled his men to stand down, and rode up to Wang Lanping.

Wang Lanping thought for a moment and lowered his voice. "I have a request that may be out of line. There is a prominent family in the city surnamed Du with whom I have some connection. Could I ask you, for the sake of our acquaintance through battle, to see that they are kept safe?" He did not know when or if he would return, and the only person he worried about in Huaining City was Ningning.

Li Laiheng was somewhat surprised. "Oh? You’ve piqued my interest. What kind of connection is it? I suspect it is no ordinary relationship, given that you would think of this at such a critical moment."

"No need to guess. This family has no real relation to me; they are merely a prominent household in the city, and many people rely on them for their livelihood. If they fall into misfortune, those people will have no way to survive."

"Just for that?"

"Just for that."

"Very well, I will not ask further. I have said: I will not plunder a single household or kill a single person, including this Du family you speak of."

"Good. Thank you. As soon as the sun rises tomorrow, I will be gone."

The six hundred horses were tied together with long ropes. There was no need to count them to see if the number was correct; when receiving something for nothing, one does not haggle over the details.

Once the horses were inside the city, Wang Lanping immediately ordered that no one be allowed to leave. He issued his commands: "Chiefs Song and Zheng, divide these horses equally between your battalions. Zheng, take the 'Wood' Battalion; one hour from now, exit the East Gate and head south to clear the path. Song, take half of the 'Wind' Battalion and gather all the civilians willing to come with us at the East Gate. Tell them this is an evacuation, not a move—they are not to bring anything they cannot carry. If they cannot, they must leave it behind. Follow Zheng half an hour after he departs."

Both chiefs were confused and asked in unison, "Leaving now? Didn't we say we would wait until dawn?"

Wang Lanping gave a cold laugh. "Li Laiheng dared to use warhorses as a bargaining chip; this shows he never intended for us to leave alive. He could get those horses back sooner or later. He did this only to numb us and lower our guard."

Zheng Sen asked, "You suspect he will launch a sneak attack in the middle of the night?"

Wang Lanping nodded. "It is not a suspicion; it is a certainty. Quickly, go and prepare. We leave in one hour."

"And what of you, General?" Zheng Sen asked.

"I will take the rest of the 'Wind' Battalion to cover the rear, then I will follow you."

Since General Wang had made his arrangements, the two had no further objections and went to carry out their duties.

In truth, there was much discussion among the townspeople regarding the sudden evacuation. Those who did not want to leave asked: Had they not won the battle? Why leave now? Where would they go? They had lived here for generations; if they left, where would they go? For the poor, life was a cycle of being bullied no matter where they landed, so why endure the hardships of displacement?

Those who wanted to leave said: Look at the refugees arriving from outside—every one of them had been stripped of everything by the Great Shun and Ming armies alike. If not for General Wang's desperate resistance, Huaining would have already suffered the ravages of war. To leave safely now was a blessing; if they did not leave, they would regret it later. Who sat on the throne was beyond the concern of common folk, but as long as they followed General Wang, they could keep their lives.

Throughout the afternoon, Song Dali was driven to distraction by the civilian complaints. In the end, only about two thousand people were willing to follow, most of them refugees who had previously fled into the city and truly understood the nature of the Shun army.

By the time Song Dali managed to gather everyone at the East Gate, Zheng Sen had already led his men into the darkness to act as the vanguard.

Looking at the crowd of people about to leave the city, Song Dali was torn between laughter and tears. This was no evacuation; it was a migration of the elderly, the young, and the infirm, with mule carts, ox carts, and wheelbarrows clogging the East Gate. It was chaotic, with children crying and wives arguing; the only things they hadn't brought were their crumbling houses.

It was hard to blame them; it is never easy to leave one's home behind. But if they truly insisted on bringing everything, no one would be able to move.

Song Dali stood on a high platform and shouted until his face turned red, "Everyone listen! Aside from food and clothes, you are not to bring anything else! Once you leave the city, no one is to make a sound! You there—unload the items from the ox carts and put the elderly and children on! Help one another, stop the arguing! General Wang has said that once we cross the river, those who have relatives can go to them, and those who want to work can make a living; you will be safe on the other side. When we leave the city, the able-bodied men should find something to defend yourselves with and walk on the outermost edges. If you encounter bandits or Shun rebels, do not panic, do not run—do you all hear me?"

Asking commoners to throw away the washbasins they had used for half a lifetime was harder than taking their lives. They were reluctant, and a clamor rose up instantly.

Seeing that his words had no effect, Song Dali climbed down, cursing. This was a thankless job. He stopped caring and waved his hand. "Those who don't want to leave can stay. If you don't listen, no one will leave! 'Wind' Battalion, take note!"

With a shout of "Hah!", a hundred soldiers drew their weapons and stepped toward the crowd, signaling that they would use force if necessary.

That tactic worked. Seeing the gleaming blades, the crowd fell silent.

Song Dali gave a cold, sneering laugh. Managing civilians was far harder than managing soldiers, but people were always afraid of steel. "Come! Open the gates! Move out!"

Finally, they were on their way. The group, supporting the old and carrying the young, traveled light and moved at a decent pace. Chief Song divided his soldiers into two teams, sandwiching the civilians in the middle. Because they dared not light torches, they had to move through the darkness. Fortunately, the heavens were kind, and by the dim moonlight, they managed to avoid falling into ditches. The people gazed at the southern night sky as they marched in a vast, endless line. Many looked back from time to time at the dark silhouette of Huaining, unable to bear leaving their native soil. Soft sobs rippled through the ranks, though they did not know that from this moment on, their lives would be a thousand times better than they were now.

By the time word reached him that the two chiefs had left the city, it was nearly the Hour of the Boar (10:00 PM). While Zheng and Song were organizing the departure, Wang Lanping had already ordered straw effigies to be placed along the ramparts, standing in rows. In the darkness, they looked no different from real men to those watching from below.

The decision to leave had been made by Wang Lanping long ago, so many preparations had been made in secret. Now that the time had come, there were few complications. A true man knows how to let go; there is nothing that cannot be discarded.

Outside the city, the bright moon hung high, and all was quiet, save for the occasional formation of wild geese returning south in the night, flying high overhead.

Wang Lanping had grown up in Huaining and was well-acquainted with the terrain outside the city. In the darkness, relying on memory alone, there was no chance of taking the wrong path. The two groups ahead were moving along peacefully, which meant the Shun army still knew nothing of their departure. This was good news.

At the beginning of the Hour of the Rat (midnight), Wang Lanping and his men had covered over twenty miles. Only then did he feel it was safe to light torches. Zheng Sen and Song Dali were waiting ahead as planned. Once the three joined forces, they took stock: the two battalions (actually numbering less than five hundred men) had lost no one and no horse. The civilians, under the protection of a few soldiers, continued to move forward.

Wang Lanping was relieved that all had gone without incident, but now was not the time to celebrate. If they continued like this, the Shun cavalry would eventually catch up. He changed his plan: he had Song Dali take some men to protect the civilians, while he and Zheng Sen searched the path ahead for a suitable spot to set an ambush. If the Shun army pursued them, he would catch them off guard.

At this time, the Great Shun camp was also perfectly quiet, but beneath that silence, a murderous intent was brewing. Three thousand Shun soldiers were fully armed, gathered behind the fences, awaiting the order to march.