Chapter 88: A Hard Road to Travel

Once everything had been arranged and each man had gone to make his preparations, Wei Ba bent over the map and reviewed his plan yet again.

Most of his earlier war games had been based on comparing and calculating the objective strength of both sides. Even if there were errors, they would not be wildly off unless the enemy had deliberately falsified the facts—claiming fifty thousand men when they in fact had only twenty thousand, for instance. Such tricks might fool laymen, but before professionals the chance of success was very small. Too many other objective conditions were involved; in truth, both sides generally had a fair idea of each other’s strength. Tens of thousands of troops could not simply appear out of nowhere.

Take Sima Yi’s forces as an example. The garrison at Wan City amounted, at most, to thirty or forty thousand. For him to move thirty thousand men to Fangling in so short a time was already the limit. He could proclaim himself to have a hundred thousand if he wished, but Wei Ba would never believe it. To assume he had thirty thousand was already to calculate according to the gravest possible situation.

But this time, a force had to be moved to Fangling to reinforce Meng Da, to steady his nerve and prevent him from being stunned senseless by Sima Yi’s surprise attack. It was an exceedingly dangerous operation, and Wei Ba could not afford anything less than utmost caution. He knew it was dangerous, yet he had no choice but to do it. Sima Yi had marched here at speed; his supplies must be insufficient, so he would certainly launch a fierce assault at once, hoping for a swift decision. So long as they could help Meng Da endure this stretch of time, he would be able to catch his breath and settle into a prolonged standoff with Sima Yi.

That was the basis of the psychological warfare Mi Wei had spoken of.

Since it was psychological warfare rather than a direct assault, many methods had to change accordingly, and Wei Ba had no choice but to make preparations in advance.

He was writing down the matters that required attention one by one when Zhao Guang returned. His expression was grave, and he seemed uneasy; several times he started to speak, only to stop himself.

“Senior brother, if you have something to say, just say it.” Wei Ba changed the form of address, hoping to put him at ease.

Zhao Guang heard this and forced a smile. “Ziyu, without the Chancellor’s orders, if you do this... won’t it be overstepping your authority?”

Wei Ba was startled. He had assumed Zhao Guang had come because he did not wish to remain in Anyang to defend the city. He had not expected him to be worried for his sake.

Seeing Wei Ba’s surprised expression, Zhao Guang took it for a sign that he had not grasped the crux of the matter and hurried to explain further. “Even if necessity justifies acting first and reporting later, and even if the Chancellor does not blame you afterward, there is no guarantee others will not slander you before him. The Chancellor governs by law. When the time comes...”

Wei Ba raised a hand and cut him off. He already understood.

Whatever private motives he might or might not have, overstepping authority was still overstepping authority. Zhuge Liang ruled by law and naturally could not show favoritism. If this battle were won, perhaps merit could offset the offense. If it were lost, then there would be only death ahead. Zhao Guang was merely worried—but Wei Ba had the advantage of foresight. Ma Su was the perfect example. If even Ma Su could be executed, then what was Wei Ba? Perhaps he would not even earn a single tear; at most there might be a sigh: what a pity for that boy.

But could this battle be won?

Simply impossible.

Even if everything unfolded exactly as he planned, ten thousand men could never defeat Sima Yi’s thirty thousand. That man was one of the most brilliant military minds of the later Three Kingdoms, a giant who had dragged Chancellor Zhuge to his death through sheer endurance. Could he, a green youth barely out of the shell, having studied military strategy for only half a year, defeat such a man with an inferior force?

That truly would be defying heaven.

So if this battle could merely avoid defeat, that would already be perfection. The chance of victory was vanishingly slim. And if so, what could he possibly use to make up for the crime of exceeding his authority?

Zhao Guang’s concerns were painfully well judged. If their fates had not, in some measure, been so closely bound together, Zhao Guang would never have warned him.

Wei Ba looked at him with gratitude and said solemnly, “I understand. I will report the plan to the Chancellor’s office and to Zhuge Qiao as quickly as possible. If either of them objects, I will abandon it.”

Zhao Guang smiled, turned, and left, his steps much lighter.

Wei Ba immediately wrote two identical military dispatches, one for Zhuge Qiao and one for the Chancellor’s office. He also estimated the time and laid out his likely route, so that if they had objections their reply could reach him in time.

A day later, Wei Feng arrived with the main force. He had not the slightest objection to Wei Ba’s plan; he supported it wholeheartedly. He raised the same concern as Zhao Guang, but since Wei Ba had already taken precautions, he said no more.

What followed exceeded Wei Ba’s expectations.

He had originally thought that among these five thousand men, aside from the two thousand under his elder brother who would obey his orders, at least some among the other three thousand would object. To his surprise, no one voiced any opinion at all. They accepted his command with docile compliance.

There was no time to lose. Wei Ba left five hundred men behind to reinforce Zhao Guang and led five thousand toward West City. West City had already been taken by the Shu army months ago and posed no danger. But once they left West City and pushed on toward Shangyong, they would be moving beyond the area under Shu control, and peril might strike at any moment.

Fortunately, mountain warfare was the Shu army’s specialty. Scaling ridges and crossing ravines was no difficulty for them. One after another they ran along the rugged, narrow mountain trails as though flying, their steps light and easy. By comparison, Wei Ba was the one less suited to it. Had it not been for the hellish training of the past half year, which had given him sufficient stamina, he might have had to let others carry him at a run. Even so, after one full day on mountain roads, his back and waist ached, and the soles of his feet burned so fiercely that he did not need to look to know each foot must bear at least three huge blisters.

After a day of hard marching, the soldiers chose a valley beside water and made camp. Wei Feng handled such matters with practiced ease; there was no need for Wei Ba to trouble himself in the least, for everything was arranged properly. Dunwu and more than fifty of the Wei household’s armored retainers were sent out as scouts. Not only did they know the terrain well, but each man possessed exceptional martial skill. Even if they encountered enemy scouts, they would not come off second best.

Wei Ba sat leaning against a rock face, heating the dagger he carried over the fire, preparing to lance the blisters on his feet. Looking at those feet—normally pampered every day by Peng Xiaoyu’s massages—now pale as dead pork and reeking of stale sweat, he could not help mocking himself for asking for suffering. Had he known forced marching was this miserable, he would have stayed in Anyang and guarded the grain stores.

“Tired, Ziyu?” Wei Feng strode over like a gust of wind. Seeing Wei Ba staring at his own feet and muttering to himself, he chuckled. Squatting down, he lifted one of Wei Ba’s feet for a look and comforted him. “It’s nothing. Once calluses grow in, you’ll be fine. The first time is always like this.” As he spoke, he took the dagger from Wei Ba’s hand.

Wei Ba looked at Wei Feng, who was holding his stinking foot and carefully opening the blisters for him, and gave a short laugh. He drew his foot back, pulled on his socks, and put his battle boots on again. “I thought that after half a year of training I’d be all right. Who knew one day on the road would expose me so thoroughly?”

“Martial training is martial training. Marching is marching. They’re not the same. But don’t worry. Your foundation is solid; you’ll adapt quickly.”

“Good. That’s good.” Wei Ba tilted his head back and looked at the small patch of sky framed by the mountains. “Where have we reached?”

“Judging by the terrain, we should already have passed White Horse Mountain. Another half day tomorrow and we’ll reach Pingli Gathering.”

“When will we get to Shangyong?”

“The day after tomorrow morning at the soonest.” Wei Feng glanced at the silent soldiers and curled his lip. “These men may be considered capable enough, but they are not Father’s troops after all. Look at them—after only a little over a hundred li, they’re already beginning to give out. If these were Father’s men, after resting for two hours they could run through the whole night again and have reached Shangyong by noon yesterday.”

Wei Ba was startled. Then he shook his head at Wei Feng. “Elder brother, that attitude won’t do. These men are your soldiers now. You mustn’t treat them as outsiders, and still less look down on them like that. Otherwise they’ll start treating you as an outsider too.”

Wei Feng flushed and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I know.”

Wei Ba thought a moment, then beckoned to a young bodyguard who was cooking his supper nearby. “Xingrui, come here.”

The bodyguard quickly put down what he was doing and came over while wiping his hands. He nodded respectfully to Wei Feng. “Young General.”

Wei Feng gave a brief acknowledgment but said nothing. He knew the young man. He was Chen Xiang, style name Xingrui, the son of Steward Chen from the Wei family estate, and now one of Wei Ba’s personal guards.

“Xingrui is quick-witted. While I was making plans with senior brother and the others, he listened the whole time from the side and understands my intentions very clearly. Keep him beside you. If anything comes up, discuss it together.”

Wei Feng answered with a muffled sound, evidently displeased that Wei Ba was asking him to heed the counsel of a mere guard. Wei Ba nudged him. “Elder brother?”

“I know, I know.” Wei Feng waved a hand. His eyes shifted, and suddenly he asked, “Then what about you?”

“I plan to rest for an hour and leave at once.”

“What?” Wei Feng was greatly alarmed. “Why such a hurry?”

“I don’t know. I’m just worried Meng Da won’t be able to hold out, so I want to get there as soon as possible and bolster his courage.” Wei Ba smiled and waved for him not to be agitated. “I may not know the mountain roads as well as they do, but I have stamina and can still endure. Elder brother, this is your first battle. You absolutely must not be careless. You must be cautious.”

Wei Feng frowned, then abruptly rose to his feet and called over a bodyguard, giving him a few instructions. The man left, and before long a powerfully built giant of a man, huge as a bear, strode over and saluted both Wei Feng and Wei Ba with clasped fists. His name was Wang Hui, style name Boyu. He was famous among the Wei household’s retainers for his martial prowess. Formerly he had served as a company officer among Wei Yan’s personal troops; now he was one of Wei Feng’s field commanders, with a hundred armored retainers under him.

“Boyu, take your men at once and move together with Ziyu. Ensure his safety. If anything goes wrong, don’t bother coming back.”

Wang Hui froze for a moment. “Young General, my assignment is—”

Wei Feng cut him off sharply. “You are my subordinate now, and you will obey only my orders. My order is for you to protect my younger brother properly. Do you hear me? Otherwise you can get out right now.”

Wang Hui hesitated, then had no choice but to salute again. “Understood.”

Wei Feng waved him away as if shooing a fly. “Go choose another five hundred elite troops as well. The best.”

Wang Hui answered once more and turned to leave.

Then Wei Feng turned back to Wei Ba. “I’m assigning Wang Hui to protect you, and I’m giving you another five hundred crack troops. But let me say the ugly thing first—you are not to take too great a risk. Fight if you can win. If you can’t, then run. Keeping your life is what matters most.”

Looking at his elder brother Wei Feng, fierce as a wrathful god, as though their father himself had descended into him, Wei Ba laughed and obediently nodded. “All right. I’ll listen to you. If I can win, I’ll fight. If I can’t, I’ll run.”