Great Tang Idyll - Volume 4 Chapter 219

Wang Juan and Zhang Xiaobao led their force forward, the adorable seedling banner fluttering proudly in the wind as they charged out of the gate. The officials of Pengzhou watched the shadows stretching long beneath the setting sun, unable for a moment to sort out what they felt.

Based on the limited information that had been sent back, Wang Juan analyzed the approximate location of Guo Tu’s troops. Although the messenger had not told them anything about Guo Tu’s plan, she could still deduce what he intended to do.

He was not trying to cross the Weak Water directly for a frontal assault on Jinchuan, but intended instead to slip through the Jinchuan mountain range to the far side and launch a sneak attack on Jinchuan from behind.

The idea was sound—but his heart was not ruthless enough. He was likely now blocked from the rear, with the road ahead deliberately left open. The Tibetans clearly wanted to lure the Tang troops forward along the easiest path. Once they entered, they would never come back.

“I’m certain Guo Tu will retreat north along the Jinchuan mountain range—oh, he’ll call it a tactical maneuver. He won’t attempt a forced breakout. Even if he managed to escape, he would lose troops and fail his mission. Do you think Li Longji will spare him for that? And he absolutely won’t go west. If he heads west, he’ll be burying his bones in foreign soil. The Tibetans will seal that place tight as an iron cauldron. Any general with a brain would know he cannot charge through. But the mountains become more dangerous the farther he goes. If he marches along mid-slope, the enemy below will spot him and shadow him all the way. If he climbs upward, then he might as well wait to freeze into an ice sculpture. At that point, Guo Tu can recite his poetry: ‘If the green mountains are fortunate enough to bury loyal bones, why bother returning wrapped in a horsehide shroud?’”

Unfolding the military map, Wang Juan compared terrain one by one and explained her analysis to Zhang Xiaobao.

Zhang Xiaobao did not know anything about military affairs. To be precise, he was only good at bluffing people. Asking him to analyze a battlefield was wishful thinking. If mastery of such specialized knowledge came easily, he’d already be a deity. In reality, he would need to lead armies through several failed battles before he could begin to understand any of it.

He looked at the troops behind them and pointed to a place on the map where climbing up the mountain seemed easy. “Should we reinforce from here?”

“No. You see it. Do you think the Tibetans don’t know exactly where others can enter their mountains? We go north—continue north. Use our mobility to rush to the front of both armies. We’ll need four days of marching. Hopefully Guo Tu’s troops won’t move too fast in the mountains, or else the Tibetans pursuing him will also move fast. When we turn west to climb up and support them, we will run straight into the Tibetan forces stationed west of Jinchuan. With our small number, the moment we encounter them, we’ll have only one option—run. If we can’t run, then kill one to break even, kill two to make a profit.”

Wang Juan traced a line across the map. Once out of the gate, they had to head north.

Zhang Xiaobao grew anxious. “Then will Guo Tu’s troops still have food?”

“They ran out long ago. By the time the messenger returned to Pengzhou, their rations were gone. Their forward grain supplies were burned. How many days of food do you think they could have carried? By now they must have slaughtered most of their horses, hunted mountain animals, and searched for edible wild vegetables and fruits.”

Wang Juan had already envisioned the likely situation. Such things were far too common in the history of war. Some escaped, regrouped, and later seized victory. Others vanished in the river of time. As for someone instantly organizing an effective sneak attack under such conditions and claiming a great victory—she had never heard of such a person.

“Then we must go help them,” Zhang Xiaobao said. “Even if we cannot fight the enemy, at least we can deliver grain into their hands.”

He could imagine what it meant for so many people to starve in the mountains. If they were all members of the Seedling Protection Team, he would not worry—those fifty-six men could live off anything. But fifteen thousand ordinary soldiers could not. Mountain resources were not enough unless they spread out, which they could not do.

Wang Juan looked up at the sky. It was clear. After thinking briefly, she said, “They won’t starve to death right away. Being hungry will slow them down—but that only makes it easier for us to catch up. Move. I want to see whether the Tibetan army in the desert can execute an encirclement just as well.”

As Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan rode out according to Li Longji’s order—an order meant to win merit for the Zhang family, though he did not yet understand the situation—the noncombat inner-court personnel left behind in Pengzhou immediately sent the message to Yizhou by the fastest means.

Yizhou’s development was going well. The various villages were cooperating with Zhang Zhong’s plan to build water dams. Places with too much water had it diverted. Places with too little water began construction.

There was pay for the labor—not from the Zhang and Wang families, but drawn from future cement profits and future prefectural income, essentially paid on credit.

While Zhang Zhong happily entertained the village chiefs with wine and meat, the first letter from Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan arrived. The letter emphasized the need to develop transport here and to purchase tea…

After traveling forward, they finally saw the people waiting ahead. A man, speaking in a dazed mutter as if in a dream, said:“You’ve come… did you bring food for us? This dream feels so good… I’m not afraid at all… don’t leave yet, let me dream a little longer. There’s even a girl here… not bad… small, but good enough to sleep next to… hehe… hehe…”

Smack!

A sharp slap answered him, along with angry faces around him.

“Who hit me? Huh? Who are you people?” The man—Wang Gang—shook his head violently as he looked around in confusion.

No one replied. Fortunately, not everyone in his unit had collapsed mentally like he had. Someone nearby said excitedly:

“Chief! It’s the Yizhou Logistics Camp! They’re here! Damn it, I actually saw the Logistics Camp! Chief, look! Their uniforms—the flag! Chief, we finally have food!”

Wang Gang sobered instantly. The moment he recognized the uniforms and the adorable seedling banner, the confusion only deepened.

How did the Logistics Camp get here? If not for the landscape proving they were in Tibetan territory, he would have thought he was back in Tang soil.

“Yizhou Logistics Camp, arriving by imperial decree to provide support,” Zhang Xiaobao said solemnly, stopping his subordinate from delivering another slap.

“W-what? Truly the Logistics Camp? Quick—pass the message to the rear!” Wang Gang forgot the pain on his face and shouted the order.

Soon, the message reached Guo Tu.

Looking at the two scouts before him and hearing what they said, Guo Tu blinked his nearly eyelash-less eyes and repeated in disbelief:

“The Yizhou Logistics Camp is here… in front of us. Do you two believe that?”

The two shook their heads together.

“Then why are you here? To joke with me?” Guo Tu roared.

“But we really saw people… and that adorable banner…” one of the scouts replied timidly