Chapter 129: Offering Flowers Borrowed from Another's Garden

As the saying goes, a general’s incompetence burdens the entire army—a truth especially evident in the age of cold weapons. The soldiers on the ancient battlefield lacked military training; suddenly engulfed by raging flames and with enemy cavalry charging to raid the camp, how could ordinary foot soldiers discern the situation? They would surely think divine reinforcements had descended and, in panic, scatter in all directions to save their lives.

At moments like this, the role of a commander proves vital.

Take the Battle of Fei River for example: the Former Qin and Eastern Jin armies arrayed on opposite banks of the river. The Former Qin had nearly a million troops, but a single order to slightly retreat caused confusion. Thousands of vanguard soldiers crossed the river, yet the rank and file did not understand the reason for the withdrawal. The rear troops, seeing the front line pull back, assumed defeat and fled. Meanwhile, the front troops, witnessing the rear’s collapse, were equally baffled. When a cry of “Qin army defeated!” erupted, what should have been a decisive victory turned into a chaotic rout.

This incident gave rise to the historical jest: “At Mount Bagong, every bush and tree looks like an enemy soldier.”

Now, Santong leading three thousand cavalry into the midst of the barbarian ranks mirrored such a scenario. Riding amidst the inferno, cutting left and right, even though the enemy boasted three hundred thousand troops, they seemed as if walking into an empty field.

If a commander lacked cohesion and leadership, even this small raiding force could have been overwhelmed by the chaos. But Yao Shuode, a seasoned veteran, quickly adapted amidst the turmoil.

By now, the fire had spread like wildfire, and morale was shaken. It would be difficult to rally the troops, but Yao Shuode had a plan: combine strict discipline with incentives.

“Relay my order: all soldiers with mounts mount up and form ranks; those without, contain the fire where you stand. Anyone who dares to shout or flee in disorder shall be executed!”

“Further, announce this: even if a soldier burns in the fire, no shouting or disorderly retreat is allowed. Those who survive this battle will have their families exempted from three years of taxes and labor; those who die on the field will have exemptions extended to seven years!”

Taxes and labor service were heavy burdens during the chaotic Five Barbarians and Sixteen Kingdoms period in the north, where regimes fought ceaselessly and the people suffered greatly. Yao’s decree was clear: disorder meant death, but steadfastness even unto death brought relief to one’s family.

In such a blazing inferno, mere persuasion would not steady ordinary soldiers; there was no time for ideological encouragement. Orders had to be enforced through authority to quell panic. Thus, Yao Shuode’s execution order served to instill fear and restore order.

“Anyone who dares to shout or flee shall be executed!”

That single decree proved effective. Though uncertain how much time had passed in the chaos, the disorder finally eased.

After all, Santong commanded only three thousand cavalry. If he had more—say thirty thousand like the barbarians—tonight’s enemy would not have dared reorganize for battle.

Watching the fire peak and then begin to abate, Zhao Qian hastily called out, “Cease the drums.”

The entire plan hinged on tension and release. Santong, deep in the enemy camp, was unaware of the barbarians’ maneuvers and vulnerable to ambush. These three thousand cavalry were Zhang Chi’s prized asset; without their mobility, infantry alone could not execute such stratagems. They had to be protected carefully.

Once the drums stopped, Santong ordered all cavalry to turn and retreat.

By then, Yao Shuode had largely reassembled his troops. Though the flames were still being contained, his priority was to restore morale and prepare for battle.

He did not know exactly how many had come to raid the camp, but raising such a massive fire implied considerable numbers and likely the enemy’s main force. Thanks to timely command, defeat had been avoided. The enemy’s raid had not succeeded in scattering his army. With morale low on the enemy side and his own troops rallying, Yao saw an opportunity.

“Pursue!” Yao Shuode led the charge.

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A general must transmit orders clearly. During retreat, commanders must issue precise commands so soldiers know where to regroup, avoiding mistakes amid chaos. But when charging, a general leading the vanguard on horseback suffices.

The entire army watches the commander. If he flees without orders, panic ensues. But if he charges forward, subordinate officers direct their units to follow, making the assault easier to coordinate.

The Thirty-Six Stratagems say “retreat is the best stratagem,” not because one should flee without fighting, but because retreat requires more skill than an outright charge.

The army was now somewhat reformed. Yao Shuode led from the front, with troops surging after him.

Santong fled toward the valley, his three thousand cavalry leaving a cloud of dust. In the darkness, it was hard to tell how many horses and men there were. Yao Shuode, leading from the front, pursued.

Approaching the valley entrance, Yao suddenly pulled his horse to a halt.

A seasoned commander knows valleys are prone to ambush and must not advance lightly.

Santong’s mission was to raid the camp and lure the enemy forward. Zhang Chi and others waited in the valley to aid him. Seeing the enemy pause at the entrance, Santong grew uneasy—his mission was incomplete.

Quick-witted, Santong spurred back close to an arrow’s range and shouted fiercely at the barbarians, “Cowardly brutes, why do you hesitate to pursue me? I have set an ambush in the valley. If you dare enter, you will find death certain!”

Yao Shuode remained silent. One of his generals asked permission to lead a team into the valley first.

“Are you not afraid there really is an ambush?” Yao asked with a slight smile.

The general replied, “The art of war teaches that what is real is feigned as false, and what is false is feigned as real. The southern men are no different. I believe there is no ambush in the valley; they only claim so to deter our pursuit, revealing their own fear.”

Had this general led the troops, he might have fallen into Santong’s trap. But Yao Shuode was no ordinary commander.

“The southerners are cunning, especially their leader, that scholar Zhang Chi. I once underestimated him, but now I cannot. He has indeed bested the famed Northern Government Army. Their craftiness suggests this is a ploy. They see us hesitate at the valley entrance, fearing our advance, and so they attempt to lure us in.”

Yao Shuode looked around the surrounding mountains and smiled. “The steep slopes on either side—if there were ambushes, they would be on the high ground flanking the valley. If they had hidden forces there, our army would be trapped inside, with the ambushers cutting off our front and rear.”

His fellow generals surveyed the terrain and agreed. “General, your insight is profound. How shall we proceed?”

“Immediately send scouts to reconnoiter the high mountains on both sides. If no ambush is found, we will advance confidently into the valley to pursue. If ambushes exist, we will block the valley mouth and first eliminate the mountain forces.”

Zhang Chi had not placed any ambushes on the mountains, but General Fang, commanding fifty thousand Yizhou troops, was watching the scene from the hilltops with other Yizhou officers, eager to witness the battle.

Fang had not slept. Since Zhang Chi intended to fight the barbarians by night, Fang wanted to watch the spectacle. He did not believe Zhang Chi’s thirty to forty thousand men could overcome the barbarians’ three hundred thousand. As the barbarians neared the valley, Fang considered whether to withdraw his troops once the battle wore down, to avoid being crushed by the barbarian cavalry after Zhang Chi’s forces.

Just as Fang mulled this over, a Yizhou subordinate came scrambling over, shouting, “Bad news! Horrible news! The barbarian army is attacking up the mountain!”

Fang was initially skeptical: “Why would the barbarian army attack us on the mountain and not those in the valley? We haven’t provoked them.”

“General Fang, the barbarians really are attacking up the mountain,” the messenger said, voice breaking with fear.

Fang was slow to react but then leapt up: “Why wait for death? We must flee at once!”

“Run… we can’t run,” the messenger wailed. “The barbarians have sealed off all paths down the mountain. Their forces are about to reach the summit.”

“R-really?” Fang finally felt true fear.

…

Meanwhile, in the valley, Zhang Chi stood at the front, staring into the distance. He turned to Ding Yizhi and said, “Cousin, don’t you think this stratagem is a bit ruthless?”

To be honest, Ding Yizhi was not entirely sure what “ruthless” meant here, but from context, he gathered enough to smile and reply, “Brother, those who do great things do not hesitate over such matters. Besides, those Yizhou generals truly deserve death.”

“Alas,” Zhang Chi sighed, “those generals do deserve to die, but ordinary soldiers know no more than to follow orders. I have caused them to suffer the blade.”

“In war, sacrifice is inevitable.” Although Zhang Chi felt pity, Ding Yizhi saw nothing wrong. “If you pity the people of these turbulent times, the best course is to command armies, pacify the realm, and unify the land. Only then will there be lasting peace and blessing for all. Such a grand endeavor will surely require countless sacrifices.”

“One general’s success comes at the cost of countless bones,” Zhang Chi lamented.

It was clear his cousin held him in high regard, even envisioning him as a unifier of the realm. Since his mysterious arrival, Zhang Chi had no grand ambitions but had been thrust into the role of the “Heavenly Strategist.” Was he truly to become the savior of this chaotic era? He shook his head.

“As long as you can drive out the Five Barbarians and end the centuries of warfare since the late Han, the people will be fortunate! No matter how many bones are crushed, it will be worth it.”

“I am but a humble scholar, unworthy of such praise,” Zhang Chi demurred.

“Brother, do not belittle yourself. To devise this intricate stratagem—how many in the world can match it? Even I, Yizhi, feel humbled,” Ding Yizhi sincerely praised.

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