Fierce and menacing

Ever since arriving in Xinghan, Wang Bo, guided by his knowledge from a previous life, greatly elevated the status and treatment of artisans, implementing large-scale assembly line production. Although this was far from the mechanization he once knew, these forward-thinking ideas, well ahead of their time, sparked unprecedented enthusiasm among the workers, resulting in productivity that dwarfed anything seen before.

The acute shortage of population posed an agonizing dilemma. Throughout Yunzhong, aside from scattered Xianbei settlements, vast stretches remained sparsely inhabited. Xinghan City tirelessly encouraged and sought to attract newcomers, and thanks to Ding Yuan’s cooperation in Bing Province, destitute refugees were systematically sent to Xinghan. Elsewhere, progress was slow; only a handful of impassioned young men ventured to Xinghan, while most commoners, so long as they had any means of survival, preferred to endure hardship rather than migrate. The deeply entrenched notion among Han farmers of staying put and defending their land would not change unless absolutely necessary.

This was especially true in populous regions like Zhuo Commandery and Shanggu in You Province. Under the administration of Liu Yu, who governed with benevolence and treated the Hu tribes kindly, the Han and Hu peoples enjoyed lasting peace. Even the powerful Xianbei were content to keep the peace, especially after the death of Tanshihuai, which threw them into inner turmoil and weakened their ability to invade southward. Only a few participated in raids on Yanmen and Liaoxi, leaving the adjacent commanderies of Shanggu and Yuyang unmolested. Life here was stable, and it was natural that the Han residents were unwilling to leave for Xinghan.

Although Liu Yu’s transfer to Qinghe brought an inept successor, worsening conditions in You Province, for the most part, the situation had not yet reached a breaking point. Aside from Gongsun Zan, whose hatred of the Hu led to frequent clashes, the region was still relatively stable. Wang Bo, powerless to intervene, could do nothing but tame the Xianbei and wait for the tides to turn.

After the decisive battle in Yunzhong, the court rejoiced—everyone gained something. A month later, thanks to the efforts of loyalists like Ding Yuan and Wang Yun, who deftly maneuvered among the eunuchs, imperial relatives, and aristocrats, the aging Emperor Ling finally issued a decree commending those who had contributed to the recapture of Yunzhong.

Ding Yuan, Inspector of Bing Province, received yet more honorary titles; Lü Bu, who had aided with his troops, was appointed Cavalry Commandant and made Chief Clerk by Ding Yuan, stationed in Henei to guard against the White Wave bandits.

Wang Bo, who had contributed the most, was promoted from Xinghan County Magistrate to Xinghan Commandant and made Administrator of Dingxiang Commandery. Yang Feng was appointed Commandant of Yunzhong, and a slew of blank appointments—Cavalry Commandants, Military Sima, and others—were handed to Wang Bo to fill as he saw fit.

The eunuch tasked with delivering the imperial edict, who harbored little affection for Wang Bo, once again tossed the decree to the Inspector’s office and hurried back to Luoyang to report. Ding Yuan, ever sincere, was left behind, forced to ponder how he might best proclaim the imperial reward in Xinghan City. He surely couldn’t simply carry the decree and a few shabby official robes—he’d only invite Wang Bo’s ridicule.

...

Time passed swiftly in the bustle of construction, and before anyone realized it, late autumn had slipped away. Months of vigorous development had transformed Yunzhong Commandery: fields stretched in an interwoven patchwork, waterwheels rose from the earth, and the subdued Xianbei were compelled to alter their ancestral customs. Yet as winter approached, each tribe still enjoyed ample food and secure living—on the weathered faces of the old, the weak, and the women, genuine smiles of peace appeared. There was no longer any need to slaughter beloved horses for food, nor to fear that men and sons would risk their lives raiding and killing for sustenance.

The thin ranks of the Xinghan army had grown stronger. The former reserves, tempered by battle, were now regular soldiers, and the new reserves included not only Han but yellow-eyed Xianbei, broad-cheeked Xiongnu, and the hybrid Wuwan—making Xinghan’s reserves appear a motley crew, though only those who had fought alongside them knew their ferocity.

Other areas saw substantial progress as well: the armory, livestock farms, and other military supply departments expanded, further enhancing the region’s war potential. If another battle of Yunzhong’s scale erupted now, preparations would take less than half the time required before.

The Xinghan Academy and Medical Hall... The chilling winds could not dampen the fevered enthusiasm of Xinghan’s people for building their homeland, and everywhere under the army’s governance, prosperity blossomed.

Elsewhere in the Han Empire’s northern frontier, however, dark clouds gathered and misery prevailed.

With the onset of early winter, rumors of countless Hu tribes outside the passes preparing for action swept up to the desks of county administrators and inspectors, then were reported up the chain to the throne. But amidst the indifference of the court grandees, Emperor Ling, who could no longer bear bad news, laughed it off and with a stroke of his vermilion brush declared, “A minor affliction, nothing to worry about!” before returning to his pleasures.

Wang Bo understood all too well, yet was powerless to act. The Xinghan army remained relatively weak, and the newly recaptured Yunzhong consumed most of his attention. The Hu in Wuyuan and Shuo Fang eyed them hungrily, and although the Southern Xiongnu appeared submissive, if the Xinghan army suffered setbacks, who could say they wouldn’t change their tune?

Moreover, Wang Bo recalled that the number of Hu invaders this time far exceeded previous years. Not only did Bing Province suffer, but even some counties in the long-peaceful You and Ji Provinces were caught up in the disaster. With so many Hu raiders, Xinghan’s ten thousand men would barely make a dent, let alone rescue the Han people or slay their attackers.

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This calamity for the Han people finally became unavoidable after several weeks. The Hu tribes entrenched outside the passes seemed to have coordinated in advance, and descended in force—not just the familiar Xianbei, but also the Wuwan and various Di tribes joined in, treating the Han as fat sheep ripe for slaughter. Bing, You, and Ji Provinces were suddenly engulfed in flames, cries of anguish rising everywhere.

Though county and commandery officials had prepared, they were helpless before the overwhelming tide of Hu cavalry, left like lambs awaiting slaughter, cowering in strongholds and fortresses while masses of Han people writhed and struggled beneath the hooves of the invaders.

You Province bore the brunt. The old inspector Liu Yu’s policy of relying solely on benevolence, neglecting military preparedness, was laid bare. All commanderies suffered large-scale incursions; the usually docile Hu revealed their savage claws, and the unprepared populace suffered terribly. Gongsun Zan, fierce enemy of the Hu who slaughtered them like pigs, was forced to retreat before their onslaught.

After initial probing, the Hu armies devolved into bands of wild beasts, burning, killing, and pillaging across the northern border as if the land were empty. Wherever they went, young men who resisted were slain, the rest forced into labor; among the old, weak, and women, only a few young women of pleasing appearance were spared for their pleasure, the rest were massacred.

The raiding parties grew like rolling snowballs, swelling as they swept south towards Guangyang and Zhuo Commandery. Eventually, even the distant commanderies of Changshan and Hejian in Ji Province saw Hu cavalry burst in, seeking further spoils.

At Yanmen Pass, the Gouzhu Fortress, renovated year after year yet ever more dilapidated, was defended by the valiant Zhang Liao. But a lion leading sheep cannot stand against a pack of howling wolves. Unable to resist the relentless Hu assault, the fortress fell within days, and tens of thousands of Xianbei riders surged into Bing Province. Among them was the Fuluohan tribe, who had fled Yunzhong and wandered without a home. Terrified by the might of the Xinghan army, they showed no mercy to other Han, and upon hearing Lü Bu had been transferred, unleashed their rage without restraint.

Many foolhardy Hu cavalry headed for Xinghan City, but before they could approach Yuhu Pass, they were slaughtered en masse by the incensed Xinghan troops.

This sudden, or perhaps long-planned, disaster unfolded amid the court’s indifference and the inadequate preparations of frontier officials, quickly spiraling out of control. The Hu cavalry, emboldened by easy gains, could no longer restrain their greed and brutality. More and more tribes joined the raiding tide, even those previously friendly to the Han, their eyes bloodshot with desire. Some tribes sent all their able-bodied men south, leaving only the old, weak, and women behind.

The rampaging Hu cavalry brought suffering to the people of Bing, You, and Ji Provinces far worse than the Yellow Turban rebellion. The Yellow Turbans seized grain and conscripts, but rarely slaughtered indiscriminately when met with little resistance. The Hu, however, swept everything clean, taking all they could carry and razing what they could not.

The tragedy intensified as time passed. The Eagle-Eye Guards, hidden in shops like the Zhen and Wang family taverns across the land, constantly relayed reports to Xinghan City. Wang Bo even received a directive from Ding Yuan, forwarded through the Southern Xiongnu, asking the Xinghan troops to intercept the Hu cavalry retreating from Yanmen Pass and ease the pressure on Bing Province’s army and people. The language was tactful, as Wang Bo was nominally under Ding Yuan’s command, but not truly subordinate.

Within Xinghan City, calls to kill the Hu and rescue the people grew ever louder. The generals repeatedly petitioned Wang Bo for permission to march out and slay the invaders, most of them being commoners and thus intimately sympathetic to the suffering of the masses.

Wang Bo refused each time, instructing his officers to drill their troops rigorously and sending scouts to closely monitor Hu cavalry movements toward Pingcheng.

This stalemate lasted nearly several weeks, until the Hu cavalry returning north from the Pingcheng valley grew sparse. In their place appeared the crazed figures of Hu raiders laden with spoils, heading home in triumph.

Each Hu raider laughed with wanton abandon, their voices carrying from afar, clearly pleased with their unexpected bounty. Their unwashed hair hung like wild grass behind them, the neat braids once worn to impress girls now lost to neglect—everything about them was repulsive.

When they met fellow raiders still heading south, their ox-like eyes squinted in delight as they mocked and showed off their trophies. Amid the whipping of horse reins and howling, the captives erupted in helpless screams and panic.

Countless Han, ragged and filthy, were strung together by ropes, stumbling and barely able to stand, driven forward through snow and icy winds by the jeers and lashes of their captors. Men and women of all shapes, though outnumbering their guards several times over, had not the slightest courage to resist. Those who collapsed from exhaustion or misstep rarely had the chance to rise again, greeted instead by bloody blades or merciless hooves.

In the middle of these prisoner columns rolled endless carts and loads, the Han laborers gritting their teeth as they personally hauled their livelihood—grain and goods—back to the thieves’ homes. The future seemed a bottomless pit of despair.

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Even with boundless hatred and rage in their hearts, what could the unarmed populace do against such monstrous brutality? Only the desperate will to survive sustained them.

The Xinghan scouts lying in wait watched it all, recalling their own suffering and feeling their blood boil, their eyes blurring with anger. After a long struggle to contain their fury, they rode hard to report to Xinghan City.

After receiving repeated reports, Wang Bo knew at last that the time for Xinghan’s counterattack had come. In the midst of this northern catastrophe, the anger simmering among tens of thousands of Xinghan troops was ready to erupt.

“Kill the Hu! Save the people!”—this was the sole thought in the minds of all who received Wang Bo’s military orders.

He recalled the bulk of the Green Wolf Army from the now-stabilized Yunzhong, added the newly trained cavalry and reserves, as well as the supply corps—even thousands of Han slave cavalry were included. Tens of thousands, led by the Wolf Owl Guard, marched out that very day beyond Yuhu Pass, charging into the valley toward Hu chieftains dreaming of their spring and autumn days. Wang Bo personally led over ten thousand Red Tiger Army, encamped with the labor corps at the mouth of the valley, facing Pingcheng across dozens of li.

Zhou Cang, Pei Yuanshao, Zhang Baiji, Ping Han, and Li Damu’s Wolf Owl Guard Alpha Squad led a force south toward Mayi and Yanmen Pass.

Huang Long, Liu Shi, Wu Huan, Jiang Qi, Xia Zhao, Lü Kuang, and Lü Xiang’s Beta Squad marched through the center toward Guo County and Juyang.

Du Yuan, Yu Du, Bai Rao, Zuo Zi Zhangba, Sun Qing, and Wang Dang’s Gamma Squad headed north toward Pingcheng.

These three cavalry forces, like angry arrows shot from taut bows, swept across the vast wilderness between Pingcheng and Yanmen, striking all Hu raider bands in sight. Their pent-up fury was released in full.

Every Hu cavalryman encountered—whether retreating with spoils or lingering in the region—was wiped out. Ever since the recapture of Yunzhong, Wang Bo had ordered his troops to avoid mistreating surrendered Hu, deliberately softening the enmity between Han and Hu; otherwise, the blood-maddened soldiers would not have spared even the old, weak, and women.

The trailing supply convoys continually ferried rescued Han and seized goods back to the Red Tiger Army’s camp, thence to be delivered by the labor corps inside Yuhu Pass.

The Hu cavalry, only days before so ferocious and triumphant, now collapsed under the charge of the Green Wolf Army, groaning beneath iron hooves, tasting the same slaughter they had inflicted on the Han. One wonders if, as they died, they grasped the eternal truth: evil begets evil.

This continued for more than ten days. The disorganized Hu cavalry finally sensed something was amiss. The chieftains, still plundering Han lands and reveling in their banditry, were stunned when the few survivors limped back to report: “When we came south, there was no Xinghan resistance. What madness is this? There were not many warriors sent to escort the spoils, but with so many tribes, the numbers should have been considerable. How could so few return? Were all the rest killed?”

Shock quickly gave way to rage: “Is this a case of bandit robbing bandit? Have they gone mad for a little loot? We never raided them, yet they dare pull the tiger’s whiskers? Do you know how hard it is to steal goods and women? And now it all ends up in Xinghan's hands? Unacceptable! Absolutely unacceptable!”