The Innocent Heart - Chapter 83

Early the next morning, under the watchful eyes of the soldiers at Juyong Pass, Wei Qing led his troops and departed.

There was no grand or bustling farewell; there was only the solemn, silent salute of the ranks.

Huo Qubing and Guan Yueyao followed the army on horseback for another ten miles, with a reluctant-looking Chen Zhi trailing behind them.

“Alright, that is enough. Go back now. A thousand-mile accompaniment must end in a final parting. Do you truly intend to escort me all the way to Mobei?” Wei Qing looked at the three youngsters following beside the column with lingering affection. His heart warmed as he waved his hand, signaling them to return.

Having exited Juyong Pass, many of the soldiers on this expedition—including Wei Qing himself—were facing this boundless prairie for the very first time. To those standing amidst it for the first time, these seemingly identical green lands could easily cause one to lose all sense of direction.

Seeing that they were getting further from Juyong Pass and noting that the three youths were traveling alone without a guide, Wei Qing was naturally uneasy about letting them venture too far. They were now within the sphere of influence of the Xiongnu; at any moment, they could encounter harassment from small scouting parties of Xiongnu soldiers hunting in the area.

“I understand, Uncle. We shall head back now.” Huo Qubing bit his lower lip, appearing as if he wanted to say more, yet not knowing where to begin.

“Lord Wei, you must return safely! Qubing and I will be waiting for you!” Guan Yueyao did not share Huo Qubing’s complex, winding thoughts. Her gaze was earnest as she looked at the young general, her reluctance to part shown openly and without reservation before Wei Qing’s eyes.

“Very well, I promise you both that I shall return safely.” Wei Qing nodded, taking one last deep look at the youths who had come to see him off, as if trying to etch these still-tender faces into his heart.

Just as Wei Qing had said, a thousand-mile accompaniment must end in a parting. He steeled his heart and looked away from them. Turning to Guo Chun, he commanded, “Pass down the order: the whole army is to advance at full speed.”

The ranks began to move rapidly, drifting further away under the gaze of Huo Qubing and the others. The army of over ten thousand men was thus “swallowed” whole by the vast prairie until they could no longer be seen.

“The center holds the heavy baggage, and the rear is followed by civilians transporting grain and fodder. Marching like this is far too slow; it is nowhere near the daily limit a cavalry unit can achieve.”

Huo Qubing looked toward the direction where the army had disappeared and suddenly spoke.

“Mm, indeed. Transporting baggage and grain mostly relies on ox carts. Although horses are fast, they are constrained by the speed of the oxen. Being unable to reach the front lines at maximum speed is truly a bit of a waste of time.”

Having lived together day and night for nearly a year, Guan Yueyao—influenced by Huo Qubing—finally had a hazy, preliminary understanding of so-called military strategy and tactics. Thus, she understood the meaning behind the phrase: In war, speed is paramount.

“Are you two mad?! ‘Before the troops move, the grain and fodder must go first!’ Is that not basic common sense in warfare?!” A cry of shock came from behind them. It turned out that the lad Chen Zhi had been silently eavesdropping from behind.

The two turned their heads simultaneously, four eyes landing on Chen Zhi’s face. A somewhat unnatural expression surfaced on the boy’s face: “What are you looking at me for? Am I not right?”

“Right, and yet not right. ‘Grain and fodder going first’ is the Central Plains’ way of fighting. Then let me ask you: every time those Xiongnu come to invade, do they bring large quantities of grain and fodder with them?” Huo Qubing asked, looking at Chen Zhi.

Chen Zhi was choked by Huo Qubing’s counter-question. Judging by the military reports sent back in previous years, he had indeed never heard of the Xiongnu having such a habit.

But how do they do it? Chen Zhi could not help but lower his head in thought.

“Ah! Is it that every time they pass a village, they plunder it extensively, replenish a few days’ worth of food, and then continue forward?” Guan Yueyao was the first to answer the question Huo Qubing had posed.

She was with Huo Qubing every day and would occasionally join him when he was summoned to the Xuanshi Hall to hear the Emperor’s teachings; therefore, she had a fair understanding of the Xiongnu’s conduct and habits.

“Exactly. If the Han army could march like the Xiongnu, their speed would surely be much faster.” As Huo Qubing spoke, a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.

Just as The Art of War by Sun Tzu states: Swift as the wind, leisurely as the forest, invading like fire, immovable as the mountains, mysterious as the shadows, and moving like thunder.

In Huo Qubing’s vision, when conducting a war, one must strive to reach the intended battlefield with maximum speed, and then, while the enemy is caught off guard, lead the subordinates to complete the carving up of the enemy’s main force.

In countless sand table simulations with the Emperor, he had practiced his ideas over and over again. Although such prerequisites seemed too perfect for people of that era to even dream of, he simply did not believe it was impossible. He only knew that he would certainly be able to do it.

“Qubing, Qubing, do you recognize where this is? I feel like we are lost.” Guan Yueyao’s hesitant voice interrupted the rising tide of thoughts in Huo Qubing’s mind. He snapped back to reality and looked around.

Where is this?

He froze for a moment, then looked at Guan Yueyao and Chen Zhi, but the expressions on their faces were just as blank as his own.

This is bad. Are we really lost? His heart sank for a moment, but he quickly calmed himself.

Since ancient times, when the armies of the Central Plains fought these nomadic tribes from the grasslands, losing one’s way was a common occurrence. Therefore, Huo Qubing had made a point of learning the skill of identifying directions.

“Do not panic. Just now, the army exited Juyong Pass and headed northwest all the way; we haven’t deviated much. Now, we only need to find the southeast direction and keep walking.”

Huo Qubing had heard from the Xiongnu who had surrendered to the Han army that there were many earthen mounds on the prairie called “Sand Dragons” (Yardangs). They were said to be used by the Great Tengri to guide lost travelers.

These “Sand Dragons” had large heads and small bodies, and the direction of the head always pointed northwest.

Ancient people lacked sufficient natural geographical knowledge to explain the unusual sights they encountered; thus, they often attributed the uncanny workmanship of nature to the gifts of the gods. In reality, the reason these marvelous terrains formed was simply because the northwest winds were more prevalent in the far north. After years of erosion by wind and sand, the terrain was molded into the shape people saw today.

Of course, Huo Qubing did not know the reason behind it either; he was simply searching for those “Sand Dragons” the Xiongnu spoke of with a degree of skepticism.

Fortunately, they soon found one.

Huo Qubing looked up at the position of the sun in the sky again. After slightly correcting their heading, he pointed in one direction and said, “West is roughly in that direction. Let us go; ride faster. We must try to get back to the Pass before the sun sets.”

Guan Yueyao nodded and quickly urged her horse to follow. However, Chen Zhi remained in place. He looked at Huo Qubing and Guan Yueyao ahead, then at the ordinary-looking “Sand Dragon,” and shouted with a frown, “Hey, Huo Qubing, are you really sure that direction is correct?”

“What? If you don’t believe it, find your own way back.” It was Guan Yueyao who answered him. The sound of the wind blew away much of the youth’s voice, making it sound unclear to Chen Zhi’s ears.

But seeing that Huo Qubing and Guan Yueyao truly had no intention of stopping to wait for him, their figures began to grow smaller. Chen Zhi looked around at the empty surroundings and shivered from the biting northern wind.

“Who said I don’t believe you? Wait for me!” he shouted, hurriedly urging his horse to catch up.

Although he was still quite at odds with these two fellows, Huo Qubing and Guan Yueyao, they actually felt quite dear to him in such a desolate wilderness.

As the three of them galloped across the great prairie, they constantly used the “Sand Dragons” they passed to correct their heading, so they were not actually moving very fast.

What was worse was that even in the cold regions outside the Pass during early spring, the pastures had begun to regrow, quickly drowning the trio’s tracks in a sea of fresh green. Soon, even the path they came from was nowhere to be found.

They rode until the sun went down, yet the three of them still couldn’t see the gatehouse of Juyong Pass.

“Huo Qubing, you couldn’t have found the wrong direction, could you? Oh, I never thought we’d get lost. I didn’t bring any dry rations either—I’m going to starve to death!” The first to complain was, naturally, Chen Zhi. He clutched his stomach, unable to hide the growling coming from his empty belly.

Guan Yueyao rolled her eyes at him and was about to argue when Huo Qubing raised his hand to stop them both.

“Today the weather is clear and the visibility is wide. We should be able to see the Big Dipper tonight, and it will be easier to find our way then. I still have a piece of dry rations I brought before we set out this morning. Though it isn’t much, it’s better if the three of us share it to pad our stomachs. Just hold on a little longer; we will surely find the way.”

Huo Qubing spoke very sincerely. Even if Chen Zhi felt resentful, he could not bring himself to lash out and obediently shut his mouth.

“Mm, I have a piece of steamed cake here as well. Let’s all share and eat.” Seeing her friend say this, Guan Yueyao also took out the rations she carried with her.

Previously, due to the tension, she hadn’t felt particularly hungry. Now that they had suddenly stopped, she realized that she had actually been hungry for a long time.

The three of them dismounted. Although it was early spring, the prairie felt even colder at night. The three could not help but huddle together, squeezing against each other for warmth as they shared the meager rations they had left.

“Here, this is the fresh water my servants put on the horse’s back before I left today. You must be thirsty, right?”

Having ridden all the way, Guan Yueyao’s mouth was parched. Even swallowing a small piece of steamed cake proved to be quite difficult. At this moment, the water skin handed over by Chen Zhi was exceptionally timely. Guan Yueyao didn’t care if the mouth of the skin was stained with Chen Zhi’s saliva; she tilted her head back and took a few gulps.

“Qubing, you have a couple of sips too.” A moment later, she wiped the corner of her mouth and handed it to her friend, still wanting more.

At this time, the three of them had only this one water skin brought by Chen Zhi. None of them dared to drink too much. Soon, the water skin—still more than half full—was handed back to Chen Zhi.

“Hey, look! Is that firelight over there? There are people over there!” Suddenly, in the dark of night, Guan Yueyao gripped the hands of the two boys sitting on either side of her and spoke in a low, tense voice.