The Rebellious Officials and Traitors of the Late Han Dynasty

Chapter 589 Kill one of me, I will kill a thousand of you in return.

How many civilians did the Qiang people kill?

Qin Shou suddenly asked.

"Your Majesty, there are thirty Han Chinese and nineteen Di people," Jia Xu replied hastily after a moment's surprise.

"Issue the decree: 31,900 Qiang people must be killed in this battle to avenge the dead. The lives of my Han people cannot have been lost in vain," Qin Shou said with a cold snort.

Jia Xu and the others paled upon hearing this, never expecting the emperor to seek revenge in such a way. It meant that for every civilian lost, a thousand enemies were killed. This kind of retribution was truly ruthless.

"promise!"

The officials dared not delay and quickly agreed.

When Jia Xu received the order and left the hall, his back was soaked with cold sweat. He had served several emperors, but he had never heard such a cruel and precise order of revenge—one life for a thousand heads. Once this decree was issued, it would surely shake the court and the country.

When Zhao Yun received the imperial edict, he was training his cavalry in the drill ground. The setting sun, like blood, shone on his silver armor.

"Thirty-one thousand nine hundred Qiang people killed?" Deputy General Zhang He gasped, exclaiming in astonishment, "This…"

Zhao Yun remained silent for a moment, then carefully put away the imperial edict: "We have no choice but to obey His Majesty's decree. Besides, the people of our Great Tang are already very valuable."

Three days later, five thousand elite cavalry arrived in Wudu. Yang Qianwan had been waiting there for some time with three hundred Di warriors. These Di warriors carried traditional hunting bows on their backs and scimitars at their waists, their eyes filled with both a desire for revenge and vigilance towards the imperial army.

"General Zhao," Yang Qianwan bowed, "the Di warriors are familiar with Qiang tactics and are willing to serve as the vanguard."

Zhao Yun sized up the young Di prefect, noticing that although he was dressed as a civil official, he was already wearing light armor and had a sword at his waist: "Prefect, have you ever been to the battlefield?"

"No," Yang Qianwan said frankly. "But I have read military books and understand the Qiang people better. They are good at mountain guerrilla warfare. If a large army is pressing in, they will break up into smaller units and disperse into the mountains."

Zhao Yun nodded and asked, "In your opinion, what should be done?"

“Although the various Qiang tribes have united to raise an army, they each have their own ulterior motives. We can strike their strongest tribe first to intimidate the others.” Yang Qianwan unfolded the map and pointed to the terrain, explaining, “The Baishui Qiang are the most powerful, with 8,000 warriors, and their camp is in this valley. If we defeat the Baishui Qiang, the other tribes will surely be filled with fear.”

Zhang He frowned: "But a direct assault on the valley would likely result in heavy losses."

A sharp glint flashed in Yang Qianwan's eyes as he coldly said, "There's no need for a direct attack. In three days, it will be the Qiang people's Mountain Worship Festival, where the leaders of various tribes will gather at Baishui Qiang Village for a celebration. We can launch a surprise attack at night and wipe them all out in one fell swoop."

Zhao Yun and Zhang He exchanged a glance, surprised by the young civil official's understanding of Qiang customs and his tactical audacity.

“The risk is too great.” Zhang He shook his head and said, “If we are discovered, our army will be surrounded.”

Yang Qianwan firmly stated, "I am willing to lead the Di warriors as the vanguard, sneaking in through the side path to open the gates for the main army."

Zhao Yun stared at the map for a long time before finally deciding, "Let's go with this plan. But the Prefect doesn't need to risk his life."

“No,” Yang Qianwan shook his head, “The Di people have just submitted. If I don’t lead from the front, how can I gain the trust of my soldiers? And how can I gain the trust of the court?”

On the eve of the Mountain Worship Festival, the night was dark and the wind was high. Yang Qianwan led fifty carefully selected Di hunters, stealthily approaching Baishui Qiang Village along the hunter's trail. These hunters had hunted in the mountains for generations, moving through the forest like nimble cats, making not a sound.

The Qiang guards on the village wall were exhausted and complacent from days of revelry, completely unaware that death was approaching.

“Prefect, there are three watchtowers on the left,” the old hunter whispered. “They need to be dealt with simultaneously.”

Yang Qianwan nodded and made a few hand gestures. The three groups of hunters disappeared into the darkness like ghosts. A moment later, several very faint muffled sounds came from afar, followed by the hooting of an owl—the signal that the hunt was successful.

As the gates of the stockade slowly opened, Zhao Yun saw it clearly and immediately led his main force to charge in. The sleeping Qiang people were caught off guard and were thrown into chaos.

Flames soared into the sky, and shouts of battle shook the earth.

In the midst of the chaos, Yang Qianwan led his Di warriors straight to the main tent. Just as Zaxi Duoji, the leader of the Baishui Qiang, rushed out of the tent, he saw the young prefect standing there with his sword drawn.

"Han Chinese lackeys!" Tashi Dorje roared and swung his knife.

Yang Qianwan dodged the attack and replied in fluent Qiang language, "When you killed my Di people's friend, did you ever think of this day?" Swords clashed, sparks flying. Zaxi Duoji was fierce, Yang Qianwan agile; the two fought fiercely, evenly matched. Finally, Yang Qianwan feigned an opening, luring his enemy in, and pierced his throat with his sword.

At dawn, the Qiang village of Baishui fell. In this battle, more than 4,000 Qiang people were killed, while the Han-Di allied forces suffered only 100 casualties.

When the news spread, the various Qiang tribes were terrified. As Yang Qianwan had predicted, the weaker Heishui Qiang and Qinghe Qiang immediately sent envoys to sue for peace.

Inside Zhao Yun's tent, the Qiang envoy prostrated himself and begged for forgiveness: "We were all coerced by the Baishui Qiang. We are willing to surrender and offer ten thousand head of cattle and sheep to atone for our sins."

Zhang He whispered, "General, His Majesty wants 30,000 heads."

Yang Qianwan hurriedly said, "General, if we accept your surrender, we can avoid further bloodshed."

Zhao Yun remained silent, lost in thought. He recalled the contents of the imperial edict, and a murderous glint appeared on his face.

The atmosphere inside the tent instantly froze.

Yang Qianwan mustered his courage: "General Zhao, may I ride back to the capital at full speed and meet His Majesty?"

Zhao Yun shook his head: "The military situation is urgent and cannot be delayed."

He looked at the Qiang envoy and sneered, "Go back and tell your leader that the imperial court only wants revenge, not surrender."

The messenger left, his face ashen.

Yang Qianwan said urgently, "General! Isn't this forcing the Qiang people to fight to the death?"

Zhao Yun's gaze was as firm as iron: "Prefect, do you know why His Majesty ordered the precise execution of 31,900 people? This is to tell the world that the lives of the people of the Tang Dynasty are worth a thousand times more than the lives of the enemy! After this battle, no one will dare to lay a finger on the people of the Tang Dynasty for a hundred years!"

The following day, the Qiang allied forces indeed fought like cornered beasts, gathering more than 20,000 warriors to defend the natural barrier of Shimen Pass.

“A direct assault will inevitably result in heavy losses,” Zhang He said with deep concern.

Yang Qianwan suddenly said, "I have a dangerous plan. I know a small path for gathering herbs that can take you around to the back of the pass. But it can only accommodate one person at a time, and it is extremely steep."

Zhao Yun immediately decided: "I will lead a hundred elite soldiers to launch a surprise attack from the side path, while General Zhang will launch a feigned attack from the front."

"No!" the generals exclaimed. "How can our commander-in-chief risk his life?"

Zhao Yun had already begun to don his armor: "Since Your Majesty desires complete victory, I cannot spare my life."

That night, Zhao Yun selected a hundred elite soldiers, led by Yang Qianwan, to climb up the cliffside path. Three soldiers lost their footing and fell to their deaths, not even having time to scream.

In the darkest hour before dawn, they finally reached the rear of the pass. Zhao Yun took the lead, his silver spear like a dragon, charging straight towards the Qiang people's command tent.

"Zhao Yun is here!" A thunderous shout threw the Qiang army into chaos.

Seeing the fire break out at the pass, Zhang He immediately launched a full-scale attack. The Qiang army, attacked from both sides, collapsed instantly.

By sunrise, Shimen Pass was a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood. A tally of the battle's results showed that over 28,000 Qiang people had been killed.

Only one part remains—the Red Rock Qiang are still putting up a stubborn resistance.

When the generals urged him to press on with one decisive move, Yang Qianwan made a surprising suggestion: "The chieftain of the Hongyan Qiang is an old acquaintance of mine. We studied together in Dunhuang. Please allow me to go and persuade him to surrender."

Zhao Yun frowned: "His Majesty's decree."

“We are short three thousand heads,” Yang Qianwan said. “If I can persuade the Hongyan Qiang to hand over the murderers who participated in the attack and submit to them forever, we may be able to avoid the calamity of extermination. Otherwise, if our army suffers thousands more casualties, it will be a loss that does not outweigh the gains.”

After pondering for a long time, Zhao Yun finally nodded: "I'll only give you one day."

(End of this chapter)