Chapter Thirty: Bestowal of Gold

On the way back, Zhao Huai’an walked through the dilapidated Tuzu camp, basking in the admiring gazes of the local Tuzu people.

It was no surprise—Zhao Huai’an’s cloak was truly flashy.

The wealthy men of the Tang Dynasty knew quality when they saw it, and they understood that this cloak alone was worth dozens of strings of cash. Whoever this man was, he was genuinely affluent.

When Zhao Huai’an returned to his own camp, he saw Dou Fatty standing and talking with Lao Liu. Their crossed eyes widened in astonishment upon seeing his splendid cloak.

Dou Fatty then jogged over, flattering him:

“Master Zhao, that cloak is magnificent! Where did you get it?”

Zhao Huai’an ignored the fat man’s sly intentions and snorted coldly:

“Commander Song gave it to me.”

With that, he left Dou Fatty standing there in a daze.

Zhao Huai’an moved toward Zhao Liu and called the key members into the main tent. He had something to discuss with them.

Zhao Liu nodded and set off to call the others one by one, starting with the four five-inch soldiers.

Everyone in the unit gathered inside the thirteen felt tents, surrounding six supply wagons to form a small, independent encampment.

Zhao Huai’an’s force had grown considerably.

He, Lao Liu, and their disciples numbered nine; the freed slaves totaled twenty-three; twelve Tongshan slaves were purchased; sixty-three mountain shelter troops were recruited; plus fifty-three troops gathered later.

On the way back, Zhao Liu told him that Dou Fatty from the neighboring camp had brought six craftsmen, exchanged two sheepskins, and then left.

Unconsciously, Zhao Huai’an’s force had reached one hundred and fifty-seven, though unfortunately the mountain shelter troops were preparing to leave.

Among them were those with prestige and leadership, all gradually summoned by Zhao Liu and gathering around Zhao Huai’an.

Just as Zhao Huai’an was about to enter the main tent, he suddenly heard Dou Fatty’s startled shout from behind. The man leapt nimbly on the spot and started running toward him.

Clearly, Dou Fatty had finally remembered who this Commander Song was.

But Zhao Huai’an had no time for him. Pointing at Dou Fatty’s tent, he scolded:

“Scram!”

Despite being scolded so bluntly, Dou Fatty didn’t feel offended in the slightest. He simply ran back to his tent with a simple, honest smile.

The key was obedience.

Zhao Huai’an found Dou Fatty amusing, and his previously vexed mood eased considerably.

Indeed, such irritation never truly disappears; it only shifts.

…

When Zhao Huai’an sat cross-legged on a sheepskin mat, over a dozen people had crowded inside, filling the tent to capacity.

Zhao Liu came and sat beside him, saying:

“They’re all here.”

Zhao Huai’an nodded, surveyed the crowd, and then said to Aqi Mo:

“Old Mo, call the two old Yi men who follow us. This concerns them as well.”

Aqi Mo immediately understood and went out to summon them.

Actually, those two Yi men wanted to join Zhao Huai’an’s group, seeing it grow larger and changing their minds.

But Zhao Huai’an despised their abandonment of their comrades and had never agreed to let them join. So now these two were relegated to the children’s table and weren’t called when matters arose.

Soon, the two Yi men entered with Aqi Mo. Seeing the crowded tent, they smiled awkwardly.

They thought Zhao Huai’an had accepted them.

Upon their arrival, Zhao Huai’an took two gold horse hoof coins—each a standard pound—from his pouch.

These were spoils he had casually taken during an ambush on the Nanzhao.

He beckoned the two Yi men closer and handed each a coin.

They looked at each other in confusion, then hastily prostrated themselves, speaking in Yi.

Aqi Mo helped translate:

“Master, they say they don’t want the gold. They want to work for you instead.”

Zhao Huai’an was stunned. They didn’t even want the gold? They just wanted to follow him?

After some thought, he said to Aqi Mo:

“Tell them the gold is their reward. If they want to follow me, then they follow you, Old Mo. They must work hard.”

Aqi Mo nodded and relayed the message.

Now genuinely joyful, the two eagerly accepted the gold and stood behind Aqi Mo.

Aqi Mo shook his head without further comment.

Having settled the matter with the two Yi men, Zhao Huai’an called up Sun Tai and Zhao Hu.

These two had fought valiantly with him and earned many merits. Zhao Huai’an presented each with an iron armor suit, promoted them to personal guards, allowing them to sleep in his tent.

Next came Yang Mao and Wang Li. Though their martial skills were still developing, they had the spirit to kill. Zhao Huai’an gave each a broadsword to practice diligently.

Then he called Niu Li, gifting him a sheepskin coat to lead the freed slaves—perhaps as an attendant soldier.

Niu Li gratefully accepted the coat, wearing it immediately. His nose dripped, and he stood there grinning foolishly.

Afterward, Zhao Wenzhong’s four sworn sons came forward. They had also distinguished themselves in the ambush against Nanzhao. Zhao Huai’an gave each a set of leather armor and allowed them to sleep in his tent.

Zhao Wenzhong, the most sensible, led the others in kneeling and kowtowing to Zhao Huai’an before stepping aside.

Finally, Zhao Huai’an called He Wenqin, a mountain shelterer he admired.

“You’ve sworn to follow me, but your uncle plans to lead the village back to the mountains. Will you go?”

He Wenqin didn’t even glance at He Bo behind him and prostrated himself:

“I wish to stay by your side, my lord.”

Zhao Huai’an nodded:

“You will be my rider from now on. Your merit isn’t enough for a horse yet, but I’ll first give you a broadsword and a saddle. Gain more merit, and I’ll grant you that chestnut horse.”

He Wenqin rejoiced, accepted the broadsword, and withdrew.

Next were the remaining new recruits: Han Tong, Qian Tiefu, Wei Jingang, Lu Zhongyuan, Zhou Dexing, Chen Fahai, and Guo Congyun.

Having no merits, Zhao Huai’an gave each a string of copper coins to encourage their training.

They were surprised to be rewarded and gratefully thanked Zhao Huai’an for his generosity.

Only four mountain shelter leaders remained. Zhao Huai’an called He Bo, Li San, Fei Chuangu, and Zhang Dai forward, smiling:

“I, Zhao, thank you for joining my recruitment and following me all this way. Today, I grant you your reward.”

He gave each a bushel of coarse salt and a yard of rough cloth.

He Bo and the others thanked him profusely, calling Zhao Huai’an a good lord. If not for their family ties, they would have truly followed him.

Hearing this, Zhao Huai’an smiled and looked at Fei Chuangu, gauging his final attitude.

This man was cunning, but Zhao Huai’an needed such brains and still had hopes for him.

Yet Fei Chuangu didn’t even lift his head—he was determined to return.

It was pointless to force the issue.

But an unexpected joy came when Zhang Dai, who had been silent all along, suddenly lifted his head and expressed willingness to follow Zhao Huai’an.

He had agreed with several in the mountain shelter to stay by Zhao Huai’an’s side. The coarse cloth and salt would be taken back by others in the village.

Zhao Huai’an was pleased, patted Zhang Dai, and gave him a broadsword.

Lastly, Zhao Huai’an addressed He Bo, Fei Chuangu, and Li San:

“Soon, you will take the mountain shelterers with Lao Liu to collect supplies, then return the same way. Do not go south; a great battle is imminent.”

Previously, Lu Zhongyuan and Zhou Dexing had said these mountain shelterers would be subject to military law once in camp. But when Zhao Huai’an met with Song Jian, he asked about this.

Song Jian simply said:

“Outside the camp, we don’t interfere.”

So these mountain shelterers were free to leave.

This was hardly a happy thing for Zhao Huai’an, as Song Jian’s words implied these outside Tuzu were cannon fodder, expendable.

And unfortunately, Zhao Huai’an’s own force was part of that cannon fodder. This was frustrating.

Suppressing his gloomy mood, Zhao Huai’an motioned to Zhao Liu to take the three mountain shelter leaders out.

Zhao Liu felt a pain as if cutting flesh. Zhao Huai’an was truly reckless, handing out supplies so casually, letting their hard-earned resources fall apart.

But hearing Zhao Huai’an speak of war, Zhao Liu understood the intent: he wanted everyone to give their all.

Though Zhao Liu had a short-sighted, greedy side, he was wise enough to know when money was needed.

He tucked in his legs, stood, and led He Bo and the others away.

At the tent’s edge, Fei Chuangu turned and cupped his fist toward Zhao Huai’an.

Zhao Huai’an smiled:

“My promise is gold. If you come to join in the future, this tent will always be open to you.”

Fei Chuangu nodded earnestly and left with He Bo and the rest.

Once they departed, Zhao Huai’an fell silent, gently patting his thigh to steady his emotions.

The tent was deathly quiet.

…

After a long while, Zhao Liu returned.

He had distributed the coarse salt and cloth to the mountain shelterers, even borrowing some rough cloth from nearby Dou Fatty’s camp when his own supplies ran short.

For some reason, Dou Fatty was unusually generous and spoke kindly, saying, “One family doesn’t quarrel over another’s matters,” making Zhao Liu think Zhao Huai’an and Dou Fatty had sworn brotherhood.

Zhao Liu was meticulous. After handing out supplies, he personally escorted He Bo and the others out of the camp. Many glanced their way, but seeing they were Zhao Huai’an’s men, no one said a word.

They reached the mountain pass, where Zhao Liu warned He Bo and his group to be careful. Then, stepping over the snow, he returned.

He shivered as he entered, then nodded to Zhao Huai’an.

With everyone assembled, Zhao Huai’an finally spoke of the serious matter:

“Shortly after we arrived in Qiongzhou, the Nanzhao sent envoys to Chengdu, asking our military governor to open a path. They claimed they wanted to go to Chang’an to pay respects to the emperor. But our military governor killed them. Had it not been for this heavy snow, the war would have started earlier. Now the snow has melted, and the battle is inevitable.”

Hearing this, the expressions varied. Zhao Huai’an’s disciples and sworn sons were indifferent. The four five-inch soldiers were eager for war.

Lu Zhongyuan and the other four guards thought deeply. They realized their lord was a man of substance.

In previous battles, orders came from above without explanation. Now, learning that the governor had killed the Nanzhao envoys, they saw Zhao Huai’an had insight.

If Zhao Huai’an knew their thoughts, he would surely scold them. What future was there? He was already planning to run.

It wasn’t cowardice. Even Song Jian could be betrayed. The Tang army was riddled with intrigue. In such circumstances, a standoff across the river held hope; any offensive would be doomed.

Zhao Huai’an was certain that though Song Jian hadn’t said it, Commander Song also intended to flee.

If the big shot was running, why should he risk his life for a few dishes?