Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3691 Rain-Splitting Cannons Guard the Natural Barrier, Rotting Roots Erode the City, Awaiting Enemy Destruction
The plum rains in May and June are persistent and sticky, soaking the once relatively solid land at the foot of Mount Song into a muddy mess.

The trenches were filled with murky mud and water, and the wooden palisades of the camp smelled musty in the damp air.

Beneath the soldiers' armor, sweat and rain mingled, creating an unbearable itching and a fermenting smell.

In this suffocatingly damp and stifling place, General Fei Qian appeared at the northern foot of Mount Song.

Fei Qian brought the reinforcements that Sima Yi had been eagerly awaiting.

However, it was not a large force, but rather a carefully selected group of over a thousand elite mountain troops, whose morale was high.

There were also four heavy iron objects, tightly wrapped in thick oilcloth and pulled by strong mules.

artillery.

The mountain path was indeed quite difficult to walk.

If these cannons hadn't been fitted with tracks and the craftsmen hadn't installed some booms on the mountain road beforehand, there would have been no way to push or pull them up the mountain; even with more mules and horses, they wouldn't have been able to move them.

When Fei Qian stepped into Sima Yi's central command tent, Sima Yi saw Fei Qian's still gentle smile, and his nerves, which had been tense for many days, seemed to relax slightly.

The tent was brightly lit, dispelling the gloom of the rain outside.

On the map, the black markers representing Cao Cao's army are layered in the Yingyin, Songshan, and Runan areas, while the red arrows representing the Flying Cavalry appear somewhat scattered and delayed in the Danjiangkou and Zhuyang areas, the Wancheng area, and key nodes such as Guiku Pass.

The passive situation that the southern front was put into due to Cao Cao's main force suddenly moving south and Xun Yu's strategy is clearly shown on the map.

"Zhongda, you've worked hard."

Fei Qian's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange sense of stability. He unfastened his mud-splattered cloak, sat down, and his gaze fell on the location representing Ghost Cry Pass and the Ruined Army Fortress. "Has Cao Cao changed commanders? Is Xun Wenruo here?"

Sima Yi bowed his head and clasped his hands, his face expressionless, and reported truthfully, "I was momentarily caught off guard and failed to adjust in time. The old traitor plotted against us, taking advantage of our troop deployment delays to cut off our communications and divide and attack us. Now, the various units on the southern front are fighting independently, with no communication, which is indeed a difficult situation."

Fei Qian nodded slightly. He offered neither comfort nor blame.

Fei Qian's gaze did not linger on the map for long. He reached out and slowly traced the contour lines along the northern foothills of Mount Song, finally landing on the black area representing Cao Cao's defenses.

"Mount Song is a treacherous place, crisscrossed with ravines," Fei Qian's voice was exceptionally clear against the backdrop of the rain. "Our cavalry excels at galloping across plains and crushing the enemy's sharpest attacks. If a large army were to cross the mountains and head south, entering the marshes and rivers of Jingzhou, it would be like a tiger trapped in mud; though its claws and teeth are sharp, they would be difficult to use... However, Cao Mengde's southward march, while seemingly victorious, has actually led him into a predicament..."

The southern foothills of Mount Song are also a long and narrow basin, which is not suitable for large armies to maneuver.

Sima Yi listened intently, his eyes following Fei Qian's finger movements. The slight unease and anxiety in his heart caused by the defeat were gradually soothed by this calm analysis.

Fei Qian may not have been smarter than Sima Yi, but their strategies differed in scope and perspective.

What Fei Qian needed was not temporary success or failure, but the overall direction of the war. Sima Yi's Songshan front was very important to Sima Yi, but it might not be the focus of the war for Fei Qian.

Fei Qian arrived here to communicate with Sima Yi.

This was to clarify the overall strategic plan for Sima Yi, as well as any possible subsequent changes.

This aligns with Fei Qian's actions in Hanoi, both of which involve explaining the overall strategy and key points to the frontline commanders as clearly as possible, while the specific implementation will be handled by the frontline commanders.

Fei Qian's fingertip moved towards Yingyin, then slowly traced towards Runan and Wancheng: "They have mobilized their entire army, their military strength is indeed formidable, but where will their provisions come from? Jingzhou was once known for its abundant resources, but years of warfare and the Cao family's excessive exploitation have exhausted the people's strength. Last year's war in Guanzhong and Heluo further weakened them. Now, their large army is gathered south of Song and north of Jing, costing more than a thousand taels of gold daily. How can the granaries of Yuzhou last? Moreover, the summer rains have made the roads muddy, making transportation extremely difficult... If this continues for too long, I fear the transportation will break down..."

Fei Qian is currently stationary in Heluo, which is already a huge drain on his resources. Moreover, Cao Cao's army has to move around and relocate their camps, moving from the agricultural settlements in Yanzhou and Yuzhou, where they could get support more easily, to the Runan and Jingbei areas.

When an army is fighting, its food consumption cannot be calculated based on its daily food intake.

Especially in the midst of melee combat with cold weapons on the battlefield, the physical exertion caused by bloodshed and violence leads to a human instinct to eat more, consuming one to three times more food than usual.

"My lord's intention..." A glint of light flashed in Sima Yi's eyes, "To attack Cao Cao's army...supply route?"

Fei Qian waved his hand, "No. If Cao Cao's army exposes its vulnerable rear and fatal supply difficulties, we could try... However, Cao Mengde is a veteran of many battles and knows the importance of provisions, so as for the supply lines... we shouldn't force it."

Sima Yi bowed and said, “My lord’s intentions are clear. They are pressing our southern front with a large army, seeking a swift victory. If we confront them at Mount Song, we will fall into their trap. We should hold the strategic passes, wait in comfort for their exhaustion, wear down their morale, and wait for them to run out of supplies and fall into disarray! If their supply lines are hidden somewhere, they will surely be exposed elsewhere! If Cao Cao’s army fails to protect any one area, south of Mount Song and north of Jingzhou, they will be caught in a dilemma!”

"Good." Fei Qian nodded. "Therefore, we should concentrate our forces along the Songshan line, relying on this natural barrier to build deep trenches and high walls, and guard the key points. Now that Cao Cao's main force has left Yingyin and headed south, their flanks and supply lines will be the openings we can exploit."

His gaze drifted outside the tent, seemingly piercing the rain to land on the heavy ironware wrapped in oilcloth: "These new cannons are not intended for attacking fortified cities, but for defending mountain passes, they are impregnable. They have been improved, offering some protection against wind and rain; Zhongda can consult the craftsmen for details… They should be deployed at high ground to block passes and control mountain roads. If the enemy launches a concentrated attack, the cannons will shatter their courage, disrupt their formation, and ultimately defeat their army."

Fei Qian had previously instructed craftsmen to research gunpowder and cannons that were moisture-proof and rainproof, and now they had made some progress. The Songshan area was perfect for conducting battlefield tests.

Fei Qian's voice was steady and powerful: "Cao Cao's army intends to force us into a decisive battle south of Song and north of Jing, but I insist on holding my ground. If he launches a strong attack, he will only waste his forces under the firepower of the mountain roads; if he sets up a stalemate, his supplies will run out, and his morale will collapse. When his army is exhausted and unable to advance or retreat, that will be the time for my southern armies to unite and coordinate..."

Fei Qian received news of the capture of Wen County and informed Sima Yi of it.

Sima Yi immediately understood Fei Qian's meaning.

The one facing a difficult choice now, the one who should be anxious, is not Fei Qian, but Cao Cao!

Sima Yi bowed in response, "I will humbly follow your strategy, my lord! I will rely on Mount Song, using cannons as a shield and elite troops as our weapons, to exhaust and harass the enemy. We will prevent them from advancing and from advancing, leaving them stranded and wasting their provisions in the mud. We will await their fate and then devise a plan!"

Fei Qian inspected the area and left quickly, but even this brief appearance suddenly boosted the morale of the Songshan Cavalry camp.

The newly arrived reinforcements quickly filled the vacancies, and the shouts during drills pierced through the rain, sounding more intense and powerful than ever before.

The four cannons were carefully placed on several pre-arranged positions at the foot of Mount Song, where the view was open and the soil was relatively firm.

A wooden shed for shelter from the rain was erected, and the heavy cannon was fixed to a specially made wooden frame.

The craftsmen worked in shifts day and night, repeatedly wiping and maintaining the cannon barrels and the specially made shot cannons filled with countless tiny iron filings and gravel with oilcloth and straw mats.

The cold, metallic scent of fresh wood, tung oil, and ironware mingled with the aroma of hormones in the rain and mist, making everyone's blood boil and eagerly anticipating the moment of battle.

……

……

South of Mount Song, the official road leading to Yingyin has long since lost its original appearance and resembles a chaotic swamp.

A muddy swamp, repeatedly trampled by countless cart tracks, horse hooves and footprints, and thoroughly soaked by the continuous plum rains.

One after another, the supply wagons carrying grain and fodder were stuck deep in the mud. No matter how much the drivers whipped and roared, the oxen and horses pulling the wagons could only pant in vain, puffing out clouds of white mist from their nostrils, their hooves slipping in the sticky mud, but the wagons remained motionless and even slowly sank.

Not only the cattle and horses, but also the auxiliary soldiers and conscripted laborers who were responsible for escorting the vehicles were all covered in mud, gritting their teeth in ankle-deep mud and using their shoulders and wooden poles to desperately carry and pry the heavy vehicles. Their heavy breathing and suppressed groans mingled with the sound of the rain.

They are worse than cattle and horses. Although cattle and horses are whipped, they are not beheaded even if the delivery is late or the fodder is insufficient.

But what about them...?

Not far from this muddy hell, on a relatively dry highland, under a makeshift, slightly leaky thatched hut, a completely different scene unfolds.

This is the transit supply depot responsible for receiving, counting, and distributing provisions for this section of the route.

The air inside the shed was equally damp and stuffy, but it was filled with a sour, rancid smell of rotting food that even cheap incense couldn't completely mask.

A low-ranking quartermaster, dressed in clothes that were fairly clean but with worn-out collars and cuffs, was frowning and picking at his teeth with his fingernails.

The yellowish-black teeth already showed signs of decay, so food would often get stuck between them.

On the low table in front of him lay a wet ledger, the ink already smudged.

Next to it was an open food box containing half a glistening roast chicken, several delicate pastries, and a few dates that were clearly not from the local area, one of which had been half-eaten.

He slowly picked his teeth, ignoring the struggling figures in the muddy water outside the shed and the faint cries coming from afar.

Here, he is the most important.

Cao Cao was the prime minister, but could he really manage such a desolate place?
Obviously impossible.

Therefore, Huang, the registrar, was the biggest local tyrant in this tiny place.

A grain transport officer, soaking wet and covered in mud, hunched over as he crawled into the shed. Rainwater streamed down his tattered leather armor, quickly forming a small puddle of mud on the ground.

Registrar Huang frowned, looking at the grain transport officer, especially at the rain-soaked wooden floor. "What is it?"

The grain transport cadet reported in a hoarse voice: "Registration Officer Huang, the seventh batch of grain carts has arrived, but they're stuck at the old locust tree slope two miles away. They simply can't pull them anymore! Some of the millet sacks on the carts...some of them are soaked by the rain, I'm afraid...I'm afraid..."

"Soaked?" The registrar, Huang, didn't even lift his eyelids. He slowly picked up a piece of pastry, ate it leisurely, and after a long while, swallowed it. Then, he tapped the ledger with his fingertip. "So what if it was soaked? It wasn't my order to soak it… Tell me, how much was lost? According to the rules, less than 30% is recorded as 'transit loss,' and more than 30% is recorded as 'negligence in storage.'"

He spoke in a flat tone, as if discussing the weather, as if the millet, swollen from being soaked in mud and water, and possibly even moldy and sprouted, was nothing more than an insignificant number on the ledger.

What does it matter to him whether the soldiers in the army can get food?
"It's not just 30% of the clerk's supplies! That slope is too steep and slippery; several vehicles overturned! The brothers fought desperately but only managed to salvage half; the rest are all mixed in with the mud!" The junior officer's voice trembled with anxiety. "The brothers at the front are waiting for rice to be cooked; many battalions are already cooking porridge so thin you can see your reflection! If we don't have rations, how can we fight?"

"What's the rush?" Clerk Huang finally lifted his eyelids, glancing at the junior officer with a hint of annoyance at being interrupted and a condescending indifference in his eyes. "Victory or defeat is the generals' business. As for food... that's just how the weather is. Can you really stop the rain? We just need to follow the rules. There are established procedures for food and fodder losses. This is a natural disaster, beyond human control. Note: 200 bushels of millet, losses during transport, just report it."

He picked up a brush, dipped it in the somewhat murky ink, and skillfully drew a circle in a certain place on the ledger, writing down how much was wasted, his movements fluid and without the slightest hesitation.

A younger clerk standing nearby looked at the junior officer's desperate eyes and the laborers struggling in the mud outside the shed, and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something.

But Registrar Huang, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, coldly replied, "What? You want to push a cart through the mud too? Or do you think I'm being unfair?"

The young clerk immediately fell silent, lowering his head.

The grain transport officer left with a worried look on his face, covered in sweat and mud.

At this moment, a well-dressed man, who looked like a merchant, was led by a soldier and sneakily approached the corner of the shed.

When Registrar Huang saw him, the slight impatience on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a knowing, friendly smile.

The two exchanged a few words in hushed tones, and the merchant quietly slipped a small cloth bag to them.

Registrar Huang weighed the wheat in his hand, then put it in his pocket. He gestured to the soldier, "Take him to the back and take away those twenty bushels of 'damp' wheat that we 'lost,' and 'dispose of' them according to the old rules."

The businessman left.

Those with connections never have to worry about food and drink.

The rain was still falling, and the mud was churning.

Inside the thatched hut, Registrar Huang sipped a warm, cloudy wine with relish, praising the candied dates, supposedly from Xinzheng, in the food box before him.

For him, victory or defeat was far less important than the sweet date in his hand.

Just as Clerk Huang had tucked the packet of silver offered by the merchant into his pocket and was savoring the sweetness of the Xinzheng dates, a rapid clatter of hooves broke through the rain. Several dusty, mud-splattered knights reined in their horses outside the thatched hut. The leader, clad in fine armor and a raincoat, with eyes as sharp as an eagle, was the military officer sent by Cao Cao to inspect the supply lines and supervise military discipline.

Wang, a trusted confidant of Zhao Da, the school official.

Team Leader Wang strode into the thatched shed, his gaze sweeping over the exquisite food box on the low table, which seemed out of place amidst the surrounding mud and famine, especially the glistening roast chicken and plump candied dates inside.

His gaze finally settled on the greasy lips of Registrar Huang.

The air inside the shed instantly froze.

The young clerk turned pale with fright and watched nervously.

Registrar Huang's heart sank, but a perfectly timed smile instantly spread across his face. He stood up and bowed deeply: "Commander Wang, you've worked hard! Patrolling in the rain, you are truly a model soldier!"

Team Leader Wang ignored Clerk Huang's flattery, his voice icy as he pointed to the food box, "Clerk Huang, the soldiers at the front are starving, surviving on thin porridge, yet you're eating roast chicken and honey dates... what's the meaning of this?"

"Oh dear! Commander, you've misunderstood! A huge misunderstanding!" Registrar Huang slapped his thigh, his face convincingly displaying an expression of utter injustice. "Commander, you are unaware! I have been overseeing the transport of provisions here, working tirelessly day and night, without daring to slacken in the slightest! And this... this food, it wasn't purchased by me!"

"Oh?" Captain Wang clearly didn't believe it. "Did it fall from the sky?"

Registrar Huang picked up a candied date, his face contorted with emotion, his tone filled with helplessness and gratitude. "To be honest," he said, "this is...this is from the soldiers who fought so hard at the front...they were so considerate of my humble circumstances! The other day, several wounded soldiers returning to the rear passed by and saw me and my clerks working tirelessly in this muddy terrain, carrying supplies and sleeping in the open, without even a hot meal...The soldiers, being kind-hearted, couldn't bear it. So they pooled their savings and had someone buy these very ordinary local dates from the nearby market, insisting on giving them to me...saying...saying that even though I'm working so hard, I need to take care of my health so I can better serve the army!"

He sighed, his face full of the dilemma of being unable to refuse such earnest hospitality. "I have declined repeatedly, but the soldiers' sincere devotion is truly... truly unbearable! This is not about my own greed for food; it is the soldiers' understanding and support for the transport of provisions! Whenever I think of this, I feel an even heavier responsibility on my shoulders, and I wish... I wish I could immediately deliver every single grain of this provisions, imbued with the soldiers' deep affection, to the front lines!"

He spoke with great emotion, his eyes even slightly reddening, as if the roast chicken and snacks in front of him were the source of his motivation and medals of honor for his "hard work and perseverance".

He didn't leave his post to buy it; someone else delivered it to him!
We've been working day and night here, so we're exhausted. What's wrong with taking a bite to eat?
If they don't take a break to eat something to replenish their energy, how can they deliver food and supplies to the soldiers on the front lines and provide logistical support?

Captain Wang watched his performance coldly, his gaze sweeping over the clerks and soldiers beside him who were bowing their heads and not daring to speak. He naturally didn't believe this nonsense. Would hungry soldiers at the front pool their money to buy dates for a fat, big-eared quartermaster?

But he was even more aware of the implications behind it all…

Team Leader Wang stared intently at Clerk Huang's seemingly sincere face, finally managing to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth: "The soldiers' 'deep affection' should be 'remembered' by Clerk Huang, do not betray it! The transport of provisions is crucial to the victory or defeat at the front; any further 'huge losses'... I'm afraid you cannot bear the responsibility!"

He stopped looking at the food box, turned and strode out of the shed, mounted his horse, and charged into the rain again with a belly full of pent-up anger and frustration, leaving only mud splattered by his horse's hooves.

Watching Captain Wang's departing figure, the aggrieved and moved expression on Huang's face vanished instantly, replaced by a barely perceptible hint of smugness and contempt. He slowly sat back down, picked up a candied date, popped it into his mouth, and mumbled an order to the clerk beside him: "Did you hear that? The soldiers' 'deep affection' must be 'remembered'! Hurry up and double-check the 'losses' in the ledgers again! Remember, make sure... it conforms to the established procedures!"