Chapter 24: The Retinue

Seeing Sun Chuanxiu approaching, Zhao Huaian vaulted down from the supply wagon and walked forward to greet him.

He waved his hand and said warmly, "Old Sun, what brings you here? Come, come! Commissioner Song just sent over some tea; let's have a taste together."

As he spoke, Zhao Huaian took Sun Chuanxiu by the hand and shouted at Zhao Liu, who was dazed atop the wagon, "Old Six, what are you doing? Get a move on!"

Upon hearing the mention of Commissioner Song, a look of awkwardness crossed Sun Chuanxiu’s face. Hearing Zhao Huaian’s reprimand, he hurriedly waved his hands and said respectfully, "Master Zhao, there is no need for that, truly. I have come today to ask for your help with something."

Seeing that Sun Chuanxiu indeed had a serious matter to discuss, Zhao Huaian led him to the side of a dirt mound and signaled for Zhao Liu and the others to continue moving with the procession.

Sun stood by, watching Zhao Huaian’s team push the four wagons of captured supplies past them, before finally speaking: "Master Zhao, I was wondering if you might have any spare armor to sell."

Noticing Zhao Huaian’s surprised expression, he realized he had asked too much and quickly explained: "Master Zhao, my Baoyi Army was re-established in haste, and we are short on all forms of weaponry and gear. I saw the supplies you had yesterday and hoped to strike a deal with you."

Zhao Huaian remained silent, wondering if Sun Chuanxiu had been prompted by someone else to covet his modest fortune. However, considering that Commissioner Song Jian had shown him considerable favor, surely no one would be so foolish as to cross him now?

With this thought, Zhao Huaian composed his tone and spoke frankly: "Armor is the foundation of every household’s survival. Who would sell such a thing? I am afraid I cannot help you there, Old Sun."

To his surprise, Sun Chuanxiu pointed to the twenty-plus men standing nearby and said, "Master Zhao, it is precisely because I know this that I come to you. I see your team is short-handed, so I brought a squad of fine men from our camp. I only wish to exchange them for some armor and blades."

The big man hesitated for a moment, then pleaded, "I beg of you, Master Zhao."

Zhao Huaian had not expected Sun to offer men in trade. He was tempted and turned to look at the twenty-odd soldiers. Unlike the short-statured men in his own unit, the men Sun brought were significantly taller. While they did not possess the towering stature of his own eight-foot-tall warriors, they were undeniably "fine men."

Nodding, Zhao Huaian replied, "Old Sun, let us do this: I will give you three sets of armor and forty blades—all quality Tibetan steel. How does that sound?"

Sun Chuanxiu was overjoyed. He had never expected such generosity and began rubbing his fingers together in excitement.

Zhao Huaian added one condition: if these men had wives or dependents, they must be brought along as well; only then would he dare to accept them as his own retainers.

Sun understood his meaning and nodded quickly. "Master Zhao, these men sought refuge in our camp over the past few years and have no deep ties to our main force. Once I return to the camp and petition the commander, I will send their families to you."

Sun cupped his hands in a salute. "Master Zhao, the Baoyi Army will never forget your kindness in aiding us. Should you have any commands in the future, we will give our all to serve."

Sun happily beckoned the twenty-three soldiers over. It was no wonder he was so pleased; the Baoyi Army had fallen on such hard times that they had nearly devolved into nothing more than mountain bandits. Were it not for the fact that the authorities in Chengdu had suddenly remembered this frontier force, they never would have been reconstituted.

With an official designation, the Baoyi Army was not short on men. Four years ago, when the Nanzhao invaded western Sichuan, many local households fled and took refuge with the Baoyi Army. Combined with other displaced frontier soldiers who had fallen on hard times, the Baoyi Army could mobilize a thousand men at a moment's notice.

However, they lacked military supplies. Chengdu had provided them with nothing but an empty title. Having existed like mountain dwellers for so long, they possessed no heavy equipment like armor, and even with money, such items were impossible to purchase. Thus, the entire army had barely a dozen sets of armor, all of which were ancient relics.

Even Sun Chuanxiu, who was considered a capable commander, wore lamellar armor passed down from his grandfather. It was a pitiful state. This was why the Zhongwu Army looked down on them: in the military, having no armor meant having no combat effectiveness, which in turn meant low status.

At first, Sun had tried to seek help from Song Jian, as they had captured over a hundred sets of iron armor during the ambush of the Nanzhao, but those had all been snatched up by the assault troops and the Zhongwu Army. Sun felt he had contributed to the rescue of Song Jian, but he hadn't even been able to see the man. The discrimination was real.

In the end, it was a suggestion from a commander named Ren Tong—who mentioned that Zhao Huaian had armor and might be willing to trade for good men—that led Sun to try his luck. He never imagined it would be such a success.

...

Watching the twenty-three soldiers walk over, Sun felt a pang of reluctance, as there were indeed good men among them, including three who were exceptionally brave. They had not been treated as direct subordinates simply because they were not from the main camp.

But thinking of those three sets of iron armor, he felt it was worth it. He turned to the bearded leader of the group and said, "Han Da, from now on, follow this Master Zhao. Your families will be sent to join you soon. These were Master Zhao's terms. He is a good master; you must serve him well."

The bearded soldier had known he was being traded, and he saluted Sun, saying loudly, "Leader Sun, the camp has been kind to us these past four years. We have no other way to repay you. If we can trade our bodies to secure military supplies for the camp, it is a debt well repaid."

With that, he and two other burly soldiers bowed deeply to Sun. Sun sighed, knowing that this meant their ties were severed; they no longer owed the camp for the protection of the past four years.

Sun felt a sense of desolation and could only force a smile at Zhao Huaian. "Master Zhao, they are good men. I entrust them to you today." Though he knew it was overstepping, he couldn't help but add, "Treat them well, Master Zhao. They are truly good men."

Zhao Huaian nodded. He could see their potential; they possessed genuine military discipline. The three in front, in particular, were sturdy, broad-boned, and well-balanced, with honest, steady eyes.

This was a profitable deal.

He smiled at Han Da and the others. "Very well. From now on, you follow me. We eat the same food, wear the same clothes, and share the same fortune..."

Zhao Huaian’s expression turned serious. "And that means we share the same dangers! From this day forward, you are my brothers!"

The men looked at each other, not daring to truly claim brotherhood with Master Zhao, but his words warmed their hearts. They could see that he was a man who truly valued good soldiers.

One after another, they replied, "We humble servants greet our Master."

Zhao Huaian laughed heartily; his force had grown stronger. Satisfied with the men, he was prompt in fulfilling his end of the bargain. He led Sun to a supply wagon and said to A Qimo, who was guarding it, "Old Mo, count out forty Tibetan blades and give them to Master Sun here."

Though advanced in age, A Qimo was the best-educated among the tribesmen, capable of counting—a true intellectual talent.

He looked at Sun with some suspicion, but seeing Zhao Huaian nod, he lifted the felt covering to reveal rows of neatly stacked blades, swords, and iron maces. Having spent over a decade in the Tibetan army, A Qimo was highly experienced despite his waning physical strength; he kept the weapons in excellent condition, with the edges sealed in grease.

Sun, seeing the arsenal, felt a pang of envy, but he remained respectful. "May I pick them out myself?"

*How embarrassing,* he thought, *the habit of poverty is hard to break.*

Zhao Huaian didn't mind; he had already vetted these weapons, and they were all top-tier.

As it turned out, Sun nodded with every blade he inspected. They were excellent, featuring silver, flowing, wave-like patterns that shimmered under the light. He was extremely satisfied with the trade. The Tibetans had sacked Chang'an several times and looted countless master bladesmiths, so the craftsmanship of their blades was in no way inferior to Tang swords. Moreover, because the Tibetans had severed the Silk Road, they had access to the finest wootz steel from west of the Western Regions, making some of their blades even superior to those of the Tang.

It was clear these were forged from wootz steel. Sun realized he had gotten the better end of the bargain; these blades alone were worth a hundred slaves, not to mention the three sets of heavy armor.

Sun hesitated, then spoke honestly, "Master Zhao, these are fine blades, far exceeding the value of Han Da and his men. I cannot accept this."

Zhao Huaian waved him off. "Old Sun, you are an honest man who does not try to cheat me. But I, Zhao Da, am also a man of my word. A promise is worth its weight in gold. You may think it’s not worth it, but I do. Han Da and his men are good soldiers. Besides, I value you, Old Sun, and I want to make you my friend."

Han Da and the others heard this and felt a warmth in their chests. Sun looked into Zhao Huaian’s sincere eyes, nodded heavily, and said, "Zhao Da, you have my friendship."

Zhao Huaian clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

Next, Zhao Huaian brought Sun to select the iron armor—three sets of Tibetan lamellar, complete from the helmet down to the iron face mask. Sun was speechless, grabbing Zhao Huaian’s hand and nodding repeatedly.

Afterward, he had his men load the weapons, intending to deliver them back to the camp personally, fearing that the Zhongwu soldiers might swoop in to steal them. Those Zhongwu guards, relying on their status, treated the Baoyi Army like mere servants.

As he thought of this, he saw Li Shitai of the Zhongwu Army approaching with thirty men, and his heart sank. "What is he doing here?"

Li Shitai swaggered over, not even glancing at Sun, and barked at Zhao Huaian, "Zhao Da! By order of Commissioner Song, you are granted thirty retainers. Come and collect them."

Zhao Huaian laughed loudly, completely unbothered by Li's rudeness, and clapped his hands.

Old Song was a man of his word; he said he would send retainers, and he didn't hold back.

*He’s a man worth knowing!*