Section 009: Recruiting Followers on the Eve of Battle

Though young in age, Du Fuwei’s etiquette toward Li Dong was flawless—his bearing was measured and respectful, leaving no room for criticism. At such a desperate moment, when life and death hung in the balance, Du Fuwei had broken through the enemy lines and rescued Zhangqiu from disaster. Li Dong was overjoyed; how could he possibly punish him? Besides, he was merely an assistant to the county constable—he had the authority to command, but not to pass military judgment.

Li Dong exchanged a few polite words, inviting Du Fuwei to rise and speak. He noticed several burly men standing behind Du Fuwei, their weapons still dripping with blood. Their attire was as motley as the government soldiers behind them, bearing little resemblance to the uniforms of the Sui dynasty. These unfamiliar faces watched Li Dong with an air of arrogance, their expressions betraying a certain resistance.

Li Dong mused that these men were probably not government troops, but more akin to mountain bandits. Bandits or not, the fact remained that they had repelled Zhi Shilang’s army and saved the people of Zhangqiu. He returned Du Fuwei’s salute and praised him, saying, “Du, you arrived at the perfect moment and have rendered great merit. When we return to the city, I shall join the prefect in recommending that you be rewarded.”

Hearing these words, the strangely dressed men burst into mocking laughter, their faces full of scorn, as if Li Dong’s promise of honor and reward was nothing more than a grandiose lie.

Du Fuwei found himself in an awkward position—he could neither rebuke them nor condone their behavior.

At that moment, Fu Gongtuo spurred his horse forward a few paces, approaching Li Dong and Du Fuwei hastily. “Do not be disrespectful,” he admonished. “This young man is possessed of great courage. If he had not stepped forward when Zhangqiu was besieged, this city would have fallen to Zhi Shilang, and none of you would have had a share in the spoils.”

Among the group stood a middle-aged man, his face stern and commanding. With no effort to mask his disdain, he declared, “Bargaining with those dogs is laughable for men who know nothing of the world.”

In his words, the man had referred to the officials of the Zhangqiu prefecture as dogs. Either he bore them a deep-seated hatred, or his principles were simply irreconcilable with theirs. Whatever the reason, his actions in coming to rescue them were at odds with his words.

Moreover, Li Dong’s own father, Li Hun, held a minor post in Zhangqiu. Insulted thus, Li Dong’s suspicions were only strengthened. He turned to Du Fuwei and asked hesitantly, “Who is this stalwart, and what does he mean by this?”

Du Fuwei replied, “This is not the place for such discussions. Once we are inside the city, I will explain everything to you in detail.”

By now, Zhi Shilang’s army had vanished without a trace; those who had failed to escape were cut down where they stood. Broken spears and shattered halberds littered the ground, bodies piled into mounds. The defenders atop the city had thrown down burning rags, setting the area below ablaze. The flames raged higher, smoke billowing thick enough to blot out the sun. Li Dong ordered his troops to extinguish the fire, lest innocent lives be lost.

The government soldiers who came with Du Fuwei took advantage of the chaos to seize all the supplies abandoned by Zhi Shilang’s fleeing troops. In the blink of an eye, nearly everything left on the field had been looted. They were exceedingly pleased with themselves, having gained so much with so little effort.

Li Dong’s own men managed to gather a few supplies, but their haul paled in comparison. Some of his soldiers grumbled, cursing under their breath; the others answered back, and a conflict seemed imminent. Li Dong summoned a subordinate, ordering him to put a stop to the bickering. Whatever the case, the men Du Fuwei had brought had saved them in a moment of dire need—a great service to both himself and Zhangqiu.

Just then, from the heap of bodies behind Du Fuwei’s group, a young enemy soldier staggered to his feet, nocked an arrow, and aimed at the burly man who had mocked Li Dong. Everyone else was busy gathering spoils; no one noticed the lurking danger.

Standing opposite them, Li Dong saw everything clearly. Without time to think, he raised the saber in his hand and hurled it like a spear.

Du Fuwei, thinking that Li Dong had been goaded by the mockery and was about to attack the man in a fit of rage, reached out in alarm to stop him. The saber flew like a shooting star, whistling coldly past the burly man’s ear and striking behind him.

The big man turned pale with fright—there was no time to draw his own blade, only to watch helplessly as the saber sped toward him.

At that instant, the men around him drew their swords with a clatter and rushed Li Dong, ready to retaliate, when a scream rang out behind them.

The saber buried itself deep in the young soldier’s chest, the hilt protruding as blood gushed forth. The youth stared in disbelief—could such a swift technique exist in this world? With a thousand doubts unspoken, he collapsed onto the pile of corpses, twitched a few times, and moved no more.

The sudden turn of events left everyone momentarily stunned, then relieved. The man who had mocked Li Dong, his face burning with shame, stepped forward and bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude for having his life saved.

With hearty laughter, Li Dong helped him to his feet. “It was nothing,” he said. “Any one of us would have done the same. Please, rise.”

Only now did Du Fuwei’s men begin to change their opinion of Li Dong. The skill and decisiveness he had displayed just now would be difficult for anyone to surpass. Respect for him grew among them.

The burly man said with deference, “My name is Zhang Junke. I am willing to serve at your side, at your command, if you will not refuse me for my earlier disrespect.”

Zhang Junke? Li Dong’s heart skipped a beat, then leapt with joy. Another fierce general had come to his side! He had always thought, listening to tales before his journey through time, that Zhang Junke was a fictional character. Who would have thought he truly existed in history! Yet what was he doing here, and under Du Fuwei’s command, when he was destined to become a leader of Wagang?

Among the three major forces of the peasant uprisings at the end of the Sui, Du Fuwei held the area near Jiangdu in the south, with the Wagang stronghold in the central plains, and Dou Jiande in Zhuo Commandery to the north, forming a tripartite balance. As for Luo Yi of Youzhou, Li Yuan of Taiyuan, and Wang Shichong of Zheng, they were all internal Sui factions, regional powers carving out their own spheres in the chaos—distinct from the peasant rebels.

Li Dong turned to Du Fuwei. “How did you come to have Zhang Junke here with you?”

Du Fuwei smiled slightly and replied, “Zhang Xutuo was not in Qi Commandery, and we were sorely disappointed. We could only make our way back slowly. On the way, we passed through a dense forest, behind which rose dozens of hills, one after another. The official road twisted and turned here, and the silence was uncanny. I urged the group to hurry, but we were suddenly stopped by a troop of horsemen.”

“About a thousand strong, they burst from the woods and quickly surrounded the Zhangqiu troops. At that moment, I was even more dejected. To die fighting on the battlefield would have brought honor to my family, but to perish unknown at the hands of these nameless men—our bodies left unclaimed—would have been a disgrace.”

As Du Fuwei recounted this, a shout came from the city wall: “Is that Li Dong and his men below?”

Li Dong looked up to see a dozen figures on the ramparts, peering down. Among them was the county constable who, at the critical moment, had cowered inside the city rather than lead his troops out, thus missing the chance to defeat Zhi Shilang.

Now, with these men at his side, what were his intentions? Li Dong suppressed his dissatisfaction and called out to them.

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