Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3735 Unequal Treatment of Doctors, I Adhere to the Principle of Employing the Wise
The heavy oak-framed iron gate of Sishui Pass slammed shut with a teeth-grinding scraping sound, shutting out the seemingly endless hoofbeats of the cavalry outside the pass.

That sound, which had haunted the souls of the defeated, now seemed to penetrate the stone walls, echoing in the hearts of every survivor with terror, even though it was now blocked by the thick city walls.

Cao Hong was defeated and forced to retreat.

They've suffered another defeat...

It seems that ever since Cao's army marched into Guanzhong, Cao Hong has never been able to win against the Flying Cavalry.
It's like the once innocent goddess of victory has now turned to the arms of someone with three different colored hair...

Hmm, isn't there no yellow one?
Cao Hong stood in the center of the training ground inside the pass, supporting his body with his battle sword.

The warhorse beside it had lost its former majesty, puffing out heavy white breath, its belly heaving violently, its fur, covered in mud and dark red mottled blood, matted together in clumps, looking quite ugly and slovenly.

Cao Hong himself was in a very sorry state.

The bright armor that originally symbolized his illustrious status as a member of the Cao clan was now dented and deformed, with several armor plates broken off, revealing the inner leather lining, which was covered with filthy blood, whether his own or someone else's, that he was wearing.

The helmet was nowhere to be found; a few strands of gray and blood-soaked sideburns clung to his sweaty, mud-covered forehead.

His face was streaked with sweat, blood, and mud, which pooled on his beard and dripped down.

Cao Hong looked around, his gaze sweeping over the defeated soldiers who had followed him into the pass like a retreating tide, and a chill ran down his spine.

It was almost a filthy torrent mixed with the atmosphere of failure, death, and despair.

In their escape, Cao Cao's soldiers pushed and shoved each other, trampling each other as they surged into the narrow gate passage. No one knew whose bloody footprints they left behind belonged to.

Many of Cao Cao's soldiers had tattered armor, some with only half a lamellar plate hanging on their bodies, revealing the blood-stained, worn-out linen clothes underneath. Their steps were heavy and unsteady, each step seemingly exhausting their last bit of strength. Their eyes were empty, staring blankly at a point in the void ahead, their pupils devoid of any light of life, like walking corpses whose souls had been ripped out.

The strong smells of blood, sweat, gunpowder, and festering wounds mingled together, permeating the cold air.

Groans, suppressed sobs, and hoarse cries for comrades rose and fell, weaving together a mournful lament.

The disastrous defeat at Gongxian was far more than just the loss of a single city.

Cao Hong's plan in Gong County was both a success and a failure.

Fei Qian did indeed attack the water gate, just as Cao Hong had hoped.

However, the key killing move of the Flying Cavalry was at the West Gate!
When Cao Hong concentrated his elite troops to annihilate the Flying Cavalry coming from the water gate, Fei Qian presented Cao Hong with a "great gift"...

A giant "firework" exploded in the water gate of Gongxian!
The west gate was breached by the cavalry, and the defense system of Gong County collapsed to an irreparable state!
Even if Cao Hong wanted to rely on his personal martial prowess, he would be unable to gather any support and would only be defeated once again...

They took the earthen rampart in one day and captured Gong County in five days.

Although there were slight gaps in the middle, the speed was...

Of course, the most crucial issue is not that the Flying Cavalry was too formidable.

Just like the barbarians who emerged from the deep mountains and forests in the late Ming Dynasty, they were certainly ferocious and inhuman, but they were still human beings, and they would die from excessive bloodshed. But what did the Ming army do after surrendering? Did their fighting power suddenly "increase" after they turned around, shaved their heads, and became unpredictable?

The reason, of course, was not the "sufficient pay" that the braided chieftains claimed. After all, the braided chieftains themselves were desperately poor and relied entirely on plunder to wage war. They would agree to any conditions when promising surrendered generals, but once they had their fun, they would turn their backs and become shameless.

It's just a new kind of fanaticism.

Despite the seemingly overwhelming victory achieved by the "braid" hairstyle at the end of the Ming Dynasty, the period from 1636 to 1644 was actually a difficult tug-of-war.

The fighting prowess of the man with the queue (braid) accounted for at most 30% of his final victory.

After all, the army's combat effectiveness is only a key and indispensable factor in determining the survival of a dynasty, but by no means the decisive factor.

The systemic collapse of the Great Meng Dynasty paved the way for the Braided Dynasty to take control of the Central Plains, and the Braided Army's combat power was maximized during this huge "window of opportunity".

Similarly, this is why the cavalry's combat power has been concentrated and displayed in the past few days, giving them an absolute advantage...

Actually, the fighting strength of Cao Jun under Cao Hong's command is not bad.

Moreover, the Sishui Pass in Gong County was a complex of fortifications built by Cao Cao when he was still in the Heluo region, and it was not a flimsy project either.

But it was captured by the cavalry so quickly!
The reason for this...

Naturally, opinions will vary from person to person.

……

……

Cao Hong stiffened as he tried to walk forward, but stumbled and was caught by Cao An, the quick-witted captain of his personal guards.

He didn't speak, but simply shook off Cao An's hand and dragged his heavy steps toward the council hall.

His silhouette, cast in the elongated shadows of the setting sun, appeared exceptionally weary, as if he were gradually growing old and decaying...

The council chamber was in complete disarray.

A few pale rays of the setting sun slanted in through the window lintel, casting distorted shadows on the floor.

Cao Hong removed his heavy breastplate, which was covered in mud and bloodstains, and threw it on the ground with a clatter, kicking up a cloud of dust.

He sat slumped down, as if trying to sink himself into the shadows.

He lowered his head and remained silent.

A deep-seated weariness overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

This exhaustion stems not only from the continuous defeats, physical pain, and immense mental strain, but also from a sense of powerlessness that comes from trying one's best but still being unable to reverse the downward trend.

Just like in a card game, you use every trick in the book to create a grand spectacle, and victory seems within your grasp, but your opponent casually throws out the "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse," instantly ending all hope.

Frustrated, angry, yet helpless.

However, what pierced his heart even more was the numbness he saw in his soldiers...

From the moment he stepped into Sishui Pass, he clearly captured the emotions in the eyes of those retreating, panicked, or even those low- and middle-ranking soldiers who were simply watching him silently.

It wasn't just fear, nor was it simply despair.

The gazes of those soldiers sent a chill through Cao Hong, a chill he had never felt before.

It's like being naked, yet standing on the edge of a cliff in the deepest abyss.

It's also like a kind of...

The verdict was announced.

The thought sent chills down his spine.

When did it become the case that these lowest-ranking soldiers began to "examine" or even "sentence" their high-ranking rulers with such eyes?

Cao Hong actually understood the crux of the problem.

The strategy of sacrificing Chen Mao in exchange for the success of the "Watergate Project" has completely failed.

The failure itself was fatal enough, but what was even more fatal was that when Chen Mao left the west gate of Gongxian, the frozen, utter numbness and despair on his face were seen by too many eyes!
That wasn't a military academy student or a brave warrior sacrificing themselves in a tragic way, but rather a desperate sacrifice, abandoned without even a chance to struggle!

only……

Sacrificing a small number to preserve the overall situation is a cold, ironclad rule on the battlefield, a choice that every commander must make.

Cao Hong asked himself honestly, what had he done wrong?

He was fighting for Prime Minister Cao's great cause and for the survival of these tens of thousands of soldiers!

Chen Mao, as a soldier, died for his orders, and his death was worthy of honor!

But now, this "taken-for-granted" sacrifice is like an invisible, poisoned dagger, piercing the bond between Cao Hong and his rank-and-file soldiers. This bond, already fragile due to years of war, shortages of supplies, and unfair rewards and punishments, is now not only bleeding but also rotting at the wound site!
The wound was spreading and deepening silently, separating him and his army on opposite sides of the chasm!
Cao Hong knew all of this!
But he didn't care before...

Because in a hierarchical feudal system, soldiers were often regarded as the property of the ruler rather than as independent individuals.

Therefore, sacrificing some property to preserve the whole is in line with the ruler's logic of self-interest.

At the same time, prolonged warfare can lead generals and other rulers to view ordinary soldiers and civilians as merely numerical values. So even knowing that these 'numerical values' represent living, breathing lives, however…

As long as the 'average' looks good, the rulers are satisfied and can gain psychological comfort.

Look, under the rule of the Emperor and the Chancellor of the Han Dynasty, hasn't the average income of the people of Shandong been increasing year by year?
The death of Chen Mao was an isolated case!

Not representative...

"General." Captain Cao An of the personal guards entered cautiously, as if afraid of disturbing something. He carried a bowl of murky millet porridge and carefully handed it to Cao Hong. "Today was a bit rushed; I didn't have time to cook..."

Cao Hong waved his hand, "My lads... are you all settled?"

"The various units have been brought in, but..." Cao An paused, his voice lowering, "the passes are narrow, and the wounded... there are simply too many. Settling them in is quite difficult, and there's considerable resentment."

Inside Sishui Pass, Cao Cao had indeed stockpiled some grain, fodder, and military equipment when he was managing the Heluo region, enough to sustain him for the time being. But now, the core issue was no longer food and drink, nor the cramped accommodations. Cao Hong nodded wearily, without even raising his eyes.

He didn't need Cao Anming to say it.

The air within this pass was filled with an atmosphere even more unsettling than the bloodshed and smoke of a battlefield.

Despair, suspicion, resentment.

This centrifugal force, permeating from the very root, was something Cao Hong was powerless to correct. Because his power, his interests, everything he possessed stemmed from this very 'root'!
Cao Hong picked up the bowl of hastily cooked millet porridge, the murky broth reflecting his haggard image.

He took a sip, the rough grains sliding down his throat, carrying a musty, stale taste.

Where are Commandant Wang and Colonel Li?

Cao Hong asked while drinking.

"Reporting to the General," Cao An replied quickly, clearly paying close attention, "Wang Sima is leading men to reinforce the western wall... Lieutenant Li is at the armory, gathering several logistics clerks to count the remaining bows, arrows, and provisions... I have already sent Captain Hu to accompany Lieutenant Li, and all the counted items will be meticulously recorded."

"Um."

Cao Hong responded, his gaze still fixed on the thin porridge in the bowl.

Wang Qian and Li Gu, two mid-level officers under him who held actual military power, were indeed still performing their duties, and even seemed more "diligent" than usual.

However, behind this "diligence" lies "alienation".

It is a deliberate act of "duty," and also a cautious distancing of indifference.

They no longer approached them with anxious or eager eyes, seeking guidance or protection from their commander, or simply asking for instructions in a perfunctory manner, as they used to do when faced with problems...

After all, in Shandong, maintaining good communication with superiors at all times, and wanting to know even the smell of the boss's farts, is the way to get promoted.

Right now, they're just "doing things".

They act rigidly, like puppets pulled by invisible strings, following a fixed procedure. The process seems important, but no one knows whether it's actually the most urgent matter at hand...

Like inertia.

It is impossible to stop it.

They wanted to move forward but could not.

……

……

Inside the western wall, the wind from the Heluo region howled through the crenellations, mingling with the groans of people, which was extremely irritating.

Wang Sima wrapped his hemp robe tighter around himself, his brows furrowed.

Gebu was originally unwilling to wear it.

Because it didn't suit his status as a military commander...

However, the original brocade robe was not only stained with blood when they fled Gongxian, but it was also torn and could no longer be worn. So they reluctantly wore a coarse cloth robe instead.

He watched his soldiers move the stones with a gloomy expression, showing no intention of helping them.

He's a military academy student, he's in management, how could he do manual labor?
If he goes to do manual labor, who will manage him?

However, these Cao soldiers are clearly not very motivated now.

The soldiers moved slowly and listlessly, their eyes gazing blankly at their feet or into the distance, as if they were carrying not foundation stones to reinforce the city walls, but earth and stones to build their own graves.

Below the wall, in the makeshift "wounded soldiers' camp" enclosed by tattered mats, the scene was even more appalling.

Painful groans, desperate cries, and dying murmurs mingled together, like a symphony of hell.

Occasionally, a military doctor or a handyman would carry out a body that had just died. There wasn't even a straw mat; they would simply throw it into the corner of the wall next to the ever-growing pile of corpses.

From stiff to soft, then spurting out liquid...

Life and death are both processes like this.

Hearing the seemingly endless groans of pain mingled with the sound of the wind, Wang Qian felt an inexplicable anger raging in his chest, making him so agitated he felt like he was about to explode.

He wanted to yell and scold the wounded soldiers who made a sound, and to whip the slow-moving soldiers, but he dared not.

He instinctively sensed that the atmosphere inside the pass was like a pile of extremely dry firewood, where any spark could ignite a raging fire.

He could only hold it in, and the more he held it in, the angrier he became, his face turning ashen.

Wang Qian himself had also struggled out of this herd of cattle and horses.

With his ruthlessness, wit, and a bit of luck, he survived countless battles, beheaded enough enemies, and finally climbed to the position of military commander.

He was finally freed from the fate of cattle and horses, and was no longer a beast to be driven and slaughtered at will!

He now had his own barracks, a few acres of meager land bestowed upon him by Cao Hong, and several hundred soldiers under his command.

Now that he is no longer an ox or a horse, he naturally will no longer bend down to experience the suffering of oxen and horses.

The wails of those wounded soldiers?
These were just the mournful cries of dying cattle and horses in the countryside. For Wang Qian, who had already moved to the city, become an official, and could at least afford a few bites of cabbage, what did it matter how many of these cattle and horses died?
As long as it's not Wang Qian who dies, that's fine!
He instinctively gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist.

This ring-pommel sword, forged from fine iron, with its hilt wrapped in the finest cowhide, was a reward Cao Hong had bestowed upon him a few years ago for his loyalty and diligence.

This knife was once a symbol of his power, a glorious proof that he had distinguished himself from countless low-ranking soldiers and established himself within Cao Cao's army system.

Holding it, he was once full of vigor and ambition.

But now, the icy handle of the knife sends a chilling sensation through the cowhide.

I don't know if it's the coldness of the iron or the chill in my own heart.

"Sima..." A trusted squad leader approached, his voice extremely low, his eyes warily scanning the busy soldiers around him. Making sure no one was paying attention, he spoke in an even lower voice, "The brothers... they're all talking about... about that Chen Sima... in private."

Wang Qian's facial muscles twitched slightly, but he tried his best to remain calm, only his brows furrowed even more deeply, forming a deep "川" (river) shape. He sternly rebuked, "Insolence! What are you talking about?! Do your own job! If the sky falls, the general will hold it up! The general has made arrangements! If you dare to speak recklessly again, you will be punished according to military law!"

His voice carried his usual sternness, even deliberately raised a few decibels in an attempt to intimidate.

But he knew in his heart that beneath his sternness lay a guilty conscience.

arrangement?

What other "plans" did Cao Hong have?
How is the previous earthen fortification line being arranged?

How well has the meticulously constructed defense system in Gongxian been arranged?
The results of it?
The earthen rampart collapsed in one day, and Gongxian fell in five!

Hold out and wait for reinforcements? Where are the reinforcements?

I heard that the Prime Minister's main force is stuck in the quagmire of Jingzhou and cannot move.

The Battle of Feihu Pass was filled with bad news, with rumors circulating that the losses were extremely heavy.

And expecting those gentry lords in Shandong who were indecisive and only concerned with annexing land and protecting their families to willingly and continuously send them provisions and soldiers.

This is an absolute joke! They're already showing their loyalty by not taking advantage of the situation to cause trouble or kick someone when they're down!

Wang Qian did not sympathize with Chen Mao.

Chen Mao is dead, but Wang Qian is still alive—that's the key point!

So, what about next time?

When a "sacrifice" is needed to delay the overwhelming offensive of the cavalry, or when a sufficiently significant head is needed to quell the morale of the army on the verge of collapse, who will be chosen next?

He fought his way up half his life, risking his life and flattering others, finally climbing to the position of Military Commander, gaining some power to command troops and some land and houses bestowed by Cao Hong. Was he just to be treated as a worthless expendable commodity in this cold tomb of Sishui Pass, to be stuffed into the muzzles of the Flying Cavalry's cannons that spew flames and death?

What he feared was not even death in battle itself.

What he feared was what would happen after death...

The power and land he had painstakingly earned over half a lifetime vanished in an instant, as if they had never existed!
He feared that his family would lose its support, that his beautiful concubine would be taken by someone else, and that his wife and children left behind in his hometown would be displaced, bullied, or even reduced to slavery.

His name, Wang Qian, will be forgotten in the dust, like countless fallen soldiers...

This fear was more suffocating to him than death itself.

His knuckles, gripping the knife handle, had turned pale from excessive force.

"Something terrible has happened!" Suddenly, a soldier shouted from the walls of Sishui Pass, "The Flying Cavalry is coming!"