Ch 11 : The Young Pan Zhang, and Chen Gong’s Proposal

“Commander, you must win!”

“Victory to the Commander!”

As Zhang Jing marched along the official road between Lu City and Feicheng, the civilians lining the route fixed their eyes on the army’s great banner.

Their faces were filled with both hope and anxiety.

Many spontaneously offered their blessings to the departing army.

At that moment, a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years of age shouted from the roadside:

“General! I want to join the army too!”

Zhang Jing, seated atop his warhorse, turned to look at the youth.

Seeing that the boy was strongly built, he called back loudly:

“Good! Leave me your name. When the army returns, you may enter the camp and fight for the Great Peace across the realm.”

With that, he rode on without looking back.

As the army gradually disappeared into the distance—

“General!”

Encouraged by the fact that Zhang Jing had actually answered him, the boy shouted with all his strength:

“My name is Pan Zhang! Don’t forget it!”

“I’ve remembered it!”

Without turning around, Zhang Jing waved a hand behind him.

“Pan Zhang?!”

After mulling over the name for a moment, Zhang Jing found it strangely familiar.

“So it’s him…”

After some thought, he finally remembered who Pan Zhang was.

This was the future renowned general of Eastern Wu, originally from Fagan in Dong Commandery, Yanzhou.

His family had been poor during his youth.

Later, they would move to Wu Commandery in Yangzhou.

Four years afterward, he would meet Sun Quan, who was then serving as magistrate of Yangxian County, and thus begin his rise to prominence.

“Which means this little fellow’s family hasn’t moved to Wu Commandery yet?”

With that realization, Zhang Jing pondered briefly before setting the matter aside.

After Zhang Jing had gone, a middle-aged man beside Pan Zhang spoke in a low voice, his expression troubled.

“Zhang’er, have you really decided to join the Yellow Turbans? They’re rebels, after all. If they lose this battle, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

The man was Pan Zhang’s father.

Their family originally came from Fagan in Dong Commandery.

Though they had never been wealthy, they had at least managed to keep themselves fed.

But as the situation in Yanzhou deteriorated, everything changed.

Tao Qian of Xuzhou had stationed forces in Fagan and, upon arriving, immediately began requisitioning grain throughout the region without restraint, causing immense suffering among the local populace.

As Yanzhou grew increasingly chaotic, the family heard that Yangzhou remained largely untouched by war.

They began considering relocation.

Who would have thought that while passing through Lu County, they would encounter the Way of Great Peace distributing porridge?

Thinking they could take advantage of the free food before moving on, they joined the crowd of civilians collecting relief grain.

That was where the trouble began.

After receiving the porridge, they attracted the attention of a group of Yellow Turbans.

Through a combination of persuasion and reasoning, the latter convinced—or pressured—them into surrendering all the grain they had been carrying for “public use.”

It was a perfect example of trying to gain a small advantage only to suffer a greater loss.

Now they could not even leave.

Unless they wished to starve to death by the roadside.

“The outcome is hard to predict,” Pan Zhang said seriously.

“From what I’ve observed over the past two days, the spirit and bearing of the Yellow Turban youths are far superior to those of ordinary bandits.”

“With soldiers like these, the contest between them and Governor Cao could go either way.”

He paused before continuing:

“Besides, our family no longer has any path left to choose.”

“If the Yellow Turbans win, we’ll be allocated dozens of mu of farmland—far more than we ever owned back in Fagan.”

“And this place isn’t far from our hometown.”

“There’s even a chance that our allotted land will be near our ancestral home.”

As he spoke, a trace of unwillingness appeared on his face.

“As for a Yellow Turban defeat, then we’ll simply have to leave it to fate.”

“If we perish in the turmoil of war, then that is simply our destiny.”

“Alas…”

His father sighed heavily.

“It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been greedy, our Pan family would never have fallen into this predicament.”

After a pause, he added:

“But I’m still worried.”

“Even if the Yellow Turbans win for a time, they’re still rebels. I doubt they can endure for long. Sooner or later the imperial court will destroy them.”

“What then?”

“And what if they win but refuse to distribute good farmland?”

“…”

“Enough, Father.”

Listening to his father’s endless worries, Pan Zhang felt both sympathy and frustration.

“No matter whether the Yellow Turbans win or lose, our family has no choice now, does it?”

“Alas… it’s all my fault.”

His father’s expression shifted repeatedly before he finally let out another long sigh.

By noon, Zhang Jing arrived at Feicheng.

“My lord!”

Que Xuan stepped forward and earnestly requested:

“I ask permission to join the campaign. Yuanshao can remain behind and oversee the city’s defense. With more than one hundred thousand able-bodied civilians here, Feicheng will surely remain secure.”

“Que Xuan,” Zhang Jing replied,

“All of our veteran soldiers and fierce generals are already marching with the army.”

“Feicheng and Lu City are the lifeblood of our forces. They cannot be lost.”

“When my father was alive, among all his subordinates, you were the most steady and dependable.”

“Moreover, Feicheng’s defenses are not as strong as those of Lu City.”

“Only if you remain here to guard the city can I campaign with peace of mind. Do not raise the matter of joining the battle again.”

He then added:

“If all goes according to plan, news of victory will arrive tomorrow.”

“Should the Han army dare attack this city, you may lead troops out to cooperate with our forces, striking the enemy from both front and rear.”

“I grant you authority to act according to circumstances.”

Feicheng was approximately fifty li from Lu City.

Feicheng was also only about sixty li from Wuyan.

In other words— if Feicheng came under attack, Zhang Jing, who was besieging Wuyan, could react quickly.

Dealing with such a situation would be far easier than if Lu City were attacked.

However, Feicheng’s walls stood only a little over two zhang high, roughly five meters and were constructed from compacted earth.

This greatly benefited any attacking force.

Defending the city would be far more difficult than defending Lu City.

Yet Zhang Jing was not worried that the city would fall.

Not only were there tens of thousands of able-bodied men inside, he had also prepared a special “gift” for anyone who attempted to besiege it.

“This general accepts the order!”

Seeing that his lord had already made his position clear, Que Xuan no longer insisted.

He cupped his fists respectfully and declared in a firm voice:

“I swear to live and die with Feicheng. May my lord return victorious as soon as possible.”

“Have no worries.”

Zhang Jing nodded slightly, patted Que Xuan on the shoulder, and then rode out through the city gates.

After Zhang Jing led the army out of the city—

Que Xuan stood atop the walls, watching the departing host recede into the distance.

Raising his right fist high, he shouted:

“Victory to my lord!”

“Victory to my lord!”

The soldiers within the city immediately joined in.

“Victory to my lord!”

“Victory to my lord!”

Even Zhang Jing and his men outside the city heard the commotion behind them.

Inspired by the cries, the soldiers of the army also began shouting in unison.

“Victory to my lord!”

“Victory to my lord!”

Receiving the response, a trace of tension flashed across Que Xuan’s face.

It was not that he lacked confidence in the army.

Rather, the Yellow Turbans had historically achieved very few major victories.

Even with the trebuchets at their disposal, he still could not completely dispel his worries.

At the third quarter of the Shen hour (around 4:45 p.m.), the vanguard of the Qihuo Army had already reached Zhang County, twenty li outside Wuyan City, and encamped along the banks of the Wen River.

Naturally, Cao Cao had received the news long before.

“Hmph! Zhang Yuheng has quite the nerve!”

Upon hearing the scout’s report, Cao Cao’s face darkened.

“Zhang County is barely twenty li from here, yet he dares to establish his camp there.”

“His audacity truly knows no bounds. He clearly holds neither the imperial court nor the Han government in any regard.”

“My lord,”

Chen Gong, standing nearby, offered a suggestion:

“There is no capable military commander among the Yellow Turbans.”

“Why not dispatch five thousand infantry and cavalry? Their army has only just arrived and has yet to secure its position.”

“A surprise attack at this moment would surely yield considerable results and perhaps even inflict a devastating blow upon them.”