Chapter 301

The journey to the harbor went smoothly. Li Linshan did not immediately lead his soldiers onto the ships; instead, he ordered them to find advantageous ground to set up camp, while he went in search of the commanding general. The general was studying the campaign map aboard the flagship, his expression grave. This assault on the Kingdom of Kou was not merely about seizing victory in one fell swoop—it was equally crucial to minimize casualties. Thus, the deployment of troops was of utmost importance.

Outside the cabin stood two young soldiers on guard. When they saw Li Linshan approaching, they moved to block his path. Li Linshan, however, displayed no displeasure; he simply asked them to announce his arrival. The young soldiers breathed a sigh of relief. To be posted at the general’s door required some wit, and the man before them wore the armor of a deputy general—a person of no small standing. While their duty was to stop all comers, they also feared inciting the temper of someone important. Fortunately, though this deputy general seemed stern, his temper was not fiery. One of the soldiers hurried inside with the message. Soon he returned, saying, “General Li, the commander invites you in.”

Li Linshan cupped his hands in salute before entering the cabin. Once the door closed, the two soldiers exchanged glances. The one who had gone inside mouthed something; the other’s eyes widened, and then, seeing his companion nod emphatically, his own gaze filled with excitement. Soon they both regained their composure, though a trace of disappointment lingered. During their service, they’d always heard that to be a soldier meant serving under the Li family’s banner, but despite transferring through several units, they’d never managed to be assigned there. They’d heard many tales about the Li family—good and bad—but in their eyes, the Lis were always righteous.

Now, having glimpsed one of the younger Li generals, hope flickered again, if only for a moment. They’d heard that Deputy General Li was usually responsible for training new recruits in the capital, especially since the military restructuring that unified command and divided the realm into war zones. All new conscripts each year were first under his charge before being assigned to the various fronts. Even if they approached him, he would not take them. They could not fathom why the Emperor had divided the Li family, when compared to other military households, the Lis were at least unselfish and absolutely loyal to the throne...

Inside the cabin, Li Linshan saluted the commander, who quickly rose, helped him up, and brought him to the campaign map. Pointing to various locations, the general explained his planned strategy. Li Linshan listened intently. His own men must not be sent to die senselessly. Though his unit was there in support, not as the main force, and his status in the army was not as high as his predecessors’, it was still possible they might be ordered to the front as cannon fodder.

Fortunately, the commander was a straightforward man and had no intention of sending Li Linshan’s troops as vanguard. Instead, they would depart ten days after the main force. The commander’s plan was to bombard the coast with the fleet’s artillery for several days, then use naval fire to cover the land artillery as the cannons were brought ashore. Soldiers would advance under the thunder of guns. Since His Majesty did not intend to leave any of Kou alive, wanting the entire kingdom buried with its rulers, then mercy was a luxury they could not afford. Mercy to the enemy was cruelty to their compatriots. Think of how the coastal people had suffered in previous years—they were merely returning the favor in kind.

Li Linshan was there to follow orders; as long as his men weren’t sent to die first, he would cooperate with anything else. After more than an hour in the commander’s cabin, he returned to find his troops already encamped. His deputy hurried to greet him, sharing the same worries.

“We’re only the support. We’ll embark ten days after the main force sets sail,” Li Linshan announced in his tent, addressing their concerns directly. The deputies all let out a breath of relief, exchanging grateful glances and pumping their fists in encouragement. “Training does not stop these next few days. Do not alarm the locals. If anyone breaks the rules, a hundred lashes.”

“Yes, sir!” The deputies saluted and left the tent.

Meanwhile in the capital, Wang Xiujin calculated the days, reckoning that Li Linshan should have reached the port by now. He wondered when the army would set sail, and whether the campaign against Kou would go smoothly. In that age, news from afar could only be learned by waiting.

Several days later, Wang Xiujin was discussing business in his grain store when Manager Wang entered, covered in dust. Wang Xiujin immediately ended the meeting, sent his guests away, and welcomed Manager Wang inside, pouring him a cup of tea personally. “You’ve had a hard journey.”

“Master,” said Manager Wang, somewhat flustered, trying to rise but pressed back into his seat by his employer. He gratefully accepted the tea and, after a sip, began to recount all that had happened along the way, as well as the words Deputy General Li had entrusted to him. “Deputy General Li is to depart ten days after the main army. The day I left, the main force had already set sail.”

Upon hearing that Li Linshan was not in the main assault but the reinforcements, Wang Xiujin finally let go of his worries. Yet a bitter smile crossed his face—people were selfish, after all. Who wished for their own kin to be sent as the vanguard?

“You’ve had a long journey. Rest at home for a few days before returning to work,” he said. Manager Wang thanked him and did not refuse. He would not rest long, however. The business had grown, and there was always much to do. Even if his master said nothing, many jealous eyes watched for the least excuse to trip him.

With news from Li Linshan, Wang Xiujin reported first to his grandfather upon returning home, and then to his father and two uncles. After hearing the news, the men fell silent. By the Li family’s reputation, they ought to lead the charge, but their own kin was dear to their hearts. Old Master Li, especially, after a moment’s silence, slapped his chair’s armrest. “Naval warfare was never the Li family’s forte; let them gain experience this time.”

Wang Xiujin did not understand the intricate calculations of generals. In his view, avoiding the vanguard was a good thing. Perhaps some would look down on them, and their contributions would be lesser, but safety was more important—the campaign was to annihilate a kingdom, not a game. Human life was far more precious than glory. Such private thoughts, however, he did not dare express before his elders.

Since Manager Wang’s return, Wang Xiujin had grown restless, often wandering near the city gates. He knew reports would not arrive so quickly, yet he could not help but go each day. After a month, a swift horse galloped in, bearing a great command banner—a messenger bringing news from the front. Wang Xiujin immediately ran home, abandoning all other matters. Nothing was more important than news from the war.

At his residence, Wang Xiujin waited anxiously for over an hour, but instead of news, an imperial messenger arrived, summoning Old General Li to the palace. Wang Xiujin’s heart tightened. He sent for his grandfather and slipped a purse to the attendant. “Has something happened at sea?”

“Rest assured, Royal Merchant, there’s been no trouble at sea. Some minor kingdoms to the west have grown restless,” the attendant replied. He knew that the eldest grandson of the Li family was at war, and that Wang Xiujin was both a royal merchant and Li’s son-in-law. Seeing the command banner, he understood Wang’s concern.

Wang Xiujin finally let out a long breath, realizing he had not remained calm in the face of trouble. When his grandfather emerged, he greeted him, quietly relaying what he had learned. The old general nodded before following the attendant to the palace. With them gone, Wang Xiujin could not focus on other work. He went out again, lest anyone think something ill had befallen Li Linshan.

In the Kingdom of Kou, Li Linshan was in his tent with several deputies, studying the campaign map and analyzing possible routes for the next advance. They had been encamped for three days without orders to move. One deputy, looking at the latest reports, pointed to a spot on the map. “If all has gone according to plan, the main force should have passed through here yesterday.”

“Today should be the day for clearing and burning the corpses,” another added. “Since landing, we’ve only been rounding up some vagrants.”

“It’s vital to hold the coastline. Why else would the refugees rush this way? They want to escape to the coast of Great Liang.”

“Even if they cross, without the proper maritime passes, could they really get through the Great Wall at sea?”

“Blame their fool of a king,” another sneered. “He should never have coveted the territory of Great Liang. And calling himself ‘Heavenly Emperor’—what a joke. Such a tiny country, and he claims to be an emperor. If he’s so mighty, why did our cannons send him fleeing?”

The deputies mocked their foe with gusto but avoided truly harsh words.

Li Linshan, eyes never leaving the map, asked, “If you were the Kou emperor, after fleeing the palace, where would you hide?” He pointed to the coastline near Great Liang. “This whole stretch is guarded by the sea wall. The Kou emperor must know that.”

“Besides Great Liang, there’s here, and here—these are the nearest places to land.” The deputies stopped their banter and studied the map carefully, realizing Li Linshan intended to capture the Kou emperor.

“The Kou emperor’s first concern is survival, but he’s surely also plotting a comeback. Those accustomed to power rarely accept being made subordinates. This place is unlikely—the king of Bang is timid, but he wouldn’t fear a deposed monarch. As for here, though it’s marked as Great Liang’s territory, it’s remote and unguarded. Whether there are any settlers is unknown.”

“If it were us, we’d try our luck here,” a deputy said, indicating the latter location.

“But does the Kou emperor have the wit to think of this? Unless he has a clever advisor with him.”

Li Linshan regarded the map in silence. “Write this down and send it to the commander. Let him decide. Our only duty is to hold our position and spray vinegar around the camp every day.”

The deputies saluted and left, exchanging puzzled looks outside. Why surrender such a valuable deduction to another? If they caught the Kou emperor themselves, they might earn great merit.

“Are you truly so thoughtless? One of the commander’s deputies is the Fourth Prince,” one remarked, and at that, the others understood. Given the relationship between the Fourth Prince and Li Linshan, how could anyone else be allowed to claim the glory? What they did not know was that Li Linshan fully intended to gift the merit to the Fourth Prince.