Chapter 185
Two Military Reports
Zhao Yun had personally witnessed how Qiao Yan managed to recruit the Black Mountain Bandits for her cause, and seeing the current situation sparked an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
In fact, compared to the Black Mountain Bandits, the Qiang people were even harder to subdue.
The Black Mountain Bandits, after all, were still Han people. They merely found themselves forced into the Taihang Mountains due to various disasters in the sixth and seventh years of Guanghe.
So once they could get support for survival from Leping, they would choose to side with her and serve under her command.
However, the order shattered after a century of Qiang chaos would require a much longer time to restore.
Fortunately, they had begun to get back on track.
A smile flickered across Zhao Yun’s face as he replied, “Your Grace will get what they wish for.”
Upon hearing this, Qiao Yan chose not to elaborate further. Trying to integrate the Qiang people into the Bingzhou army within a limited timeframe was a tall order, so she paused at the edge of a field, admiring the rapeseed before her.
This rapeseed, commonly seen even in modern times, bore another name—“cold vegetable,” which could replace the more awkward term “yun ta.” The term “cold vegetable” clearly described its growing characteristics.
The harsh winters of the northwest didn’t affect its winter cultivation; it was no wonder it rapidly took root in this area after being introduced via the Silk Road.
In the farming method promoted by Qiao Yan, this batch of rapeseed had been treated by removing the tips, encouraging the surrounding leaves to grow more lushly, resulting in a naturally greater yield of seeds.
Furthermore, rapeseed offered higher oil extraction efficiency compared to the sesame grown in Liangzhou.
This meant she would be able to acquire another batch of oil.
However, Qiao Yan had different plans for these two types of oil.
Sesame oil, due to its dry oil characteristics, replaced southern oilseed in the production of waterproof cloth and paper, while the oil extracted from rapeseed was most suitable for—
“After harvesting these seeds, we will refine the oil to make lamp oil to be sent to Bingzhou for use in the academy. Any excess will be sold to the people of Bingzhou, and the profits will be accounted for in the books of Wuwei Commandery’s fields.”
In this era, the cost of candles was surprisingly high, making them unaffordable for most. During times like these, one needed to work from sunrise to sunset.
But with Zheng Xuan and his disciples arriving, the age of students at Leping Academy had actually increased quite a bit. In this case, not allowing them to put in a bit of extra work seemed unwise to Qiao Yan.
Especially given the urgent need for clerks in the current situation.
At most, she had taken into consideration the lack of glasses for nearsightedness in ancient times, which restricted the usage time of lamp oil at night.
All in all, having lamp oil provided for free by the academy was already quite a generous benefit.
She was lost in thought when she suddenly noticed someone gazing in her direction.
However, when she followed that gaze, she saw the person quickly turn their face away, focused on explaining the tools for harvesting rapeseed to the Qiang people, along with the rules for calculating their contributions based on measured weight.
This person acted as if they hadn’t just been sizing her up.
Qiao Yan, intrigued, took a few steps over to listen to her speak.
What surprised her was that this Qiang woman, dressed in foreign uniform, spoke Chinese with a tone that seemed noticeably more inclined towards the Han style compared to others.
She had practically overcome the feature of the northern Qiang language that lacked intonation.
At most, she just relied on common words to express her meaning, replacing complex sentence structures.
Clearly, her vocabulary was insufficient.
In contrast to the voices Qiao Yan had previously heard, this newcomer seemed particularly impressive as a beginner in Chinese.
Being able to express herself in such a simplified manner was a sign of cleverness.
“Did you learn Chinese before?” Qiao Yan asked, interrupting her explanation of the rules.
The one caught in Qiao Yan’s gaze was Mi Tang.
Realizing she had been caught staring too long and drawing Qiao Yan’s attention made her quite nervous, so she could only rely on her instinct from the past few months to make her explanations.
Now, hearing Qiao Yan’s question, she felt like she didn’t know where to place her hands and feet.
She could only tell herself that her experiences here had assured her that Qiao Yan, the Governor of Bingzhou, wasn’t going to eat her. In fact, she seemed to hold less prejudice against them Qiang than other Han leaders or officials.
In her judgment, there was only one criterion—
Friend or foe.
Rather than fearing her, Mi Tang actually leaned more toward respecting Qiao Yan.
After all, as winter came to an end, the Qiang had not only found a safe place to survive but had also accumulated some wealth. And in the territory governed by Qiao Yan in Liangzhou, this money could buy them goods.
The accumulation of wealth brings a sense of security and belonging.
Carrying this mindset, Mi Tang quickly composed her expression and replied, “I haven’t learned; I started learning in December. I come from the Canlang Qiang and haven’t interacted with the Han people before.”
Qiao Yan examined her expression, discerning that she wasn’t lying.
The snow and wind of the frontier made this Qiang girl’s skin appear somewhat coarse, yet her features were undeniably beautiful.
Though they were both of Qiang descent with deep-set features, this girl exuded a more subdued aggression compared to Yao Chang, her eyes reflecting a steadfast determination.
The commonality was that neither of them could tell a lie.
Qiao Yan naturally followed up with, “What’s your name?”
She responded, “I’m called Mi Tang, but I’ve given myself a Han name, Jiang Tang.”
Qiao Yan raised an eyebrow.
The character “Jiang” has existed since oracle bone script, represented by an image of a woman wearing horns.
Given that the Qiang regard sheep as their totem, it’s likely that in ancient times it referred to a Qiang woman.
However, whether there’s further connection between this and the Qiang is beyond Qiao Yan’s judgment.
But having “Mi Tang” as her chosen surname was certainly an interesting twist of fate.
Not dwelling on the choice of her name, Qiao Yan simply smiled and asked, “Do you know what Jiang Tang is?”
Jiang Tang shook her head in confusion.
This candy was simply too obscure for someone who had just begun learning Chinese less than six months ago.
But it wasn’t just hard for her; at this time, sugar was still referred to as rock honey or syrup. Even the term “rock sugar” for cooking Dongpo Pork was how Qiao Yan referred to it, let alone Jiang Tang.
She then saw Qiao Yan gesture for her to stretch out her hand.
Following her instinct, Jiang Tang offered her hand, and a packet of oiled paper fell into her palm.
Jiang Tang opened the oiled paper and revealed a piece of yellow substance inside. Following the cue from Qiao Yan, she put it in her mouth, and a mingled flavor of spicy ginger and sweetness instantly filled her mouth.
This unique sweetness was something she had never tasted in her twenty years of life.
It made her eyes light up.
She then heard Qiao Yan say, “You’ve chosen a name that’s easy to remember, so when you master Chinese, come find me again; I have other tasks for you.”
Other tasks?
Before Jiang Tang could ask what those “other tasks” were, she noticed Qiao Yan and Zhao Yun turning to leave.
Their backs were lighter this spring, not needing cloaks like she had seen them in February, but they still moved with an effortless grace.
If not for the Jiang Tang still in her mouth, she could hardly believe she had just had a brief encounter with the Governor of Bingzhou, who even remembered her name and promised her another task.
Thinking about the unfinished spring farming obligations, she swiftly swallowed the Jiang Tang, shifted her focus back to her fellow Qiang people, and continued explaining the next task of clearing the rapeseed stalks.
Meanwhile, once they were far off, Qiao Yan took out two more pieces of Jiang Tang from her pouch, handing one to Zhao Yun as she continued, “Keep an eye on her for me; specifically, both you and Zhongde should pay attention to anyone like her with a talent for language. I have other uses for them.”
Zhao Yun didn’t ask further about the purpose of the attention; he simply agreed.
Qiao Yan felt no worry about Zhao Yun, as he more often did than said.
As they saw the spring farming seasonal shift from rapeseed fields to wheat fields being well managed and the growth and harvest of rapeseed looking promising, she found herself significantly more relaxed.
This was the benefit of having reliable subordinates.
With these thoughts, she unwrapped the oiled paper and popped a piece of Jiang Tang into her mouth.
Like pepper, which could be used as both a spice and medicinal herb, Qiao Yan hadn’t bothered to save any for herself for grilling, but the West Extreme rock honey from Wuwei Commandery could be transformed into ginger candy.
This explained the origin of the Jiang Tang she held in her hand.
In the harsh and crude environment of Liangzhou, such a sweet treat was sure to evoke a sense of happiness, reflecting her current mood.
Amidst the smooth operations of affairs, one could hardly say whether it was because her overly principled subordinate made her want to tease him.
She turned to Zhao Yun and asked, “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Zhao Yun replied, “Fan Yu likes sweet food. I’ll leave it for him.”
Fan Yu was the famed Dawan horse Qiao Yan had gifted to Zhao Yun.
This Dawan horse also went by the name of Blood-Sweat Steed, a first-class steed in the world, hence Zhao Yun named it Fan Yu, in reference to the ancient eight steeds.
Though Dawan horses were mostly fiery in temperament, like most horses, they shared a common flaw—an affinity for sweet foods.
When Qiao Yan had first made the ginger candy, she had sent a portion to several of her subordinates in Liangzhou, and when Zhao Yun unwrapped it, Fan Yu had happened to be nearby and snatched a piece, revealing the steed’s preference.
Qiao Yan found it quite amusing and shook her head, “Just don’t spoil it. If you don’t give it candy, it won’t let you ride it into battle.”
In this era, carrots and apples, which were adored by horses, weren’t tamed yet or hadn’t spread to the Central Plains, while the standard horse feed was the low-sugar purple clover, explaining their preference for ginger candy.
Zhao Yun replied earnestly, “Your Grace, I understand that too much is worse than too little.”
While he said that, Qiao Yan felt that even a principled military man like Zhao Yun would subconsciously give in to their mounts.
At most, the bottom line was that sugar was quite expensive these days, and he wouldn’t buy any exceeding his salary range.
Zhao Yun was like this, and Lü Bu needed no further mention.
Since Qiao Yan had greenlit him to use Red Hare first, and after the incident with Ma Chao piqued his interest in the steed, Lü Bu had increasingly regarded Red Hare as a treasure.
However, due to Qiao Yan establishing conditions for obtaining Red Hare earlier, Lü Bu was excited this year to head to Chang’an, proclaiming he would collect Dong Zhuo’s head as the “bride price” for Red Hare.
Qiao Yan simply turned a blind eye to this and sent him off to Bingzhou instead.
She wasn’t about to change her plans for his brotherly rescue and valiant intentions.
So rather than saying she asked Lü Bu to return to Bingzhou to see his wife and daughter, it was more accurate to say Qiao Yan was too lazy to deal with Lü Bu’s eagerness for battle.
Lü Bu clearly didn’t perceive this subtext, as he was currently feeling overwhelmed.
Pepper being handed over directly to Wu Pu was straightforward.
Wu Pu had been responsible for the design of army first aid kits, popularizing medical knowledge among the literati and generals of Bingzhou, and various daily care responsibilities. He had even been almost recruited for veterinary duties, often thinking about bringing Hua Tuo to Bingzhou to help share Qiao Yan’s quirky demands.
Now that Lü Bu arrived with quite a bit of pepper, without waiting for it to be weighed and logged, he dashed off to write to Hua Tuo.
But cotton was a different story…
“This is troublesome.”
Lü Bu received Qiao Yan’s orders to oversee the new farmland cultivation in Shangjun after completing the handover. He had to pick soldiers from his troops who weren’t fit for border defense anymore and assign them to look after the cotton seedlings, which was basically a switch from guarding the borders to being bodyguards.
On top of that, he had another task: to have Qin Yu, who was busy with agriculture matters in Bingzhou, submit reports on everything after seeding.
Like the acreage, number of farmers, fertilization status, and how many seedlings made it through, among other things.
With such demands, Lü Bu couldn’t return to Liangzhou right away.
And just at that moment, Leping Academy, under Qiao Yan’s directive, added a new course called Agricultural Practice.
During the course’s launch, a few promising younger students, whom Qiao Yan was focusing on nurturing, were approved to visit the cotton fields, including—
Lü Lingju.
“General Lü, why are these cotton seeds different from other crops? We need to make a seedbed first before transplanting, right?”
“……” Lü Bu couldn’t explain it.
“General Lü, did you add too much fertilizer? It doesn’t match the manual.”
“……!” Lü Bu jumped up in a panic, realizing that he indeed added too much, and someone quickly took over his job of handling the refined soil.
But when he came to his senses, he saw that the kid in charge of spreading the fertilizer was just a child, and the one mixing it was also a kid.
The latter was a familiar face, looking a lot like Dian Wei.
As for the former, Lü Bu just heard Lü Lingju mention him; it was Lu Yi, who came from Jiangdong.
Realizing he was being outsmarted by a couple of kids, Lü Bu had to reflect on himself, but at that moment, Lü Lingju asked again: “General Lü, can these cotton seeds really grow into cotton?”
Whether or not they could grow cotton was unclear, but Lü Bu felt his head was about to turn into a ball of cotton.
“Lü Lingju! You should call me ‘dad’ instead of General Lü, right?”
Lü Lingju, the leader of the youth group at Leping Academy, met Lü Bu’s gaze calmly and replied confidently, “Public matters are public, private matters are private. That’s what the Lord taught us. Once I graduate from the academy and serve under the Lord, if I’m assigned to be under General Lü, should I receive special treatment just because I’m your daughter?”
This question completely stumped Lü Bu again.
Lü Lingju shrugged, “So it’s still appropriate to call you General Lü… or Captain Lü works too.”
“Well said!” Before Lü Bu could respond, he heard a voice cheering along with applause.
He turned to see it was not Wei Xu, but rather his wife’s brother cheering. In other words, he was Lü Lingju’s uncle but effectively a subordinate of Lü Bu.
Lü Bu pressed his forehead, baffled that his daughter was more articulate than him, and it seemed she had more support than he did.
Truly, it was nice to have a horse like Red Hare, who never contradicted him.
Thinking this, he turned around and left.
“You’re not upset, are you?” Lü Lingju peeked after her father who was storming off, mumbling, “I’m just trying to help him. If he can’t even figure out the seedbed, how’s he going to report back to the Lord? He can’t just say ‘the stuff has arrived’, right?”
At this point, she suddenly patted Lu Yi on the shoulder and said, “See? This is the cost of having no knowledge, don’t be like him.”
“……” Lü Bu, who hadn’t quite walked away yet, stopped in his tracks.
He only wanted to grab the sweets he brought back from Liangzhou to share with the kids, why did it turn into a lecture on ignorance!
But unfortunately, Lü Bu was quite slow on the uptake when it came to new ideas, unlike Lü Lingju and Lu Yi with their quick brains.
Fortunately, he had experience running Suiyuan City and managed to remember the basics through rote learning.
After they had planted the cotton seeds into the seedbeds, he finally breathed a sigh of relief, gathering the youngsters around the edge of the field.
At this point, he looked a lot more serious and thought about the directive from Qiao Yan. He said seriously to Lü Lingju, “When you go back, make sure you know what to say and what not to say. If you stir up trouble, I can’t help you.”
Qiao Yan allowing them to come here showed she valued them, but that didn’t mean they had the right to act recklessly.
Especially with something like cotton, which could at most be shared with the students at the academy. They must brainstorm on how to separate cotton from the seeds.
But where the cotton came from and how it was grown were secrets that Bingzhou had to keep.
“Rest assured, General Lü,” Lü Lingju nodded earnestly.
She understood the importance of this matter, “Recently, new students coming to the academy are from other regions. That Cao Pi is the son of the Dongjun Prefect, Zhuge Liang was recommended by the Xun clan of Yingchuan, and Huang Yueying is the daughter of Liu Biao’s relative, Huang Chengyan. Until we figure out whether they’re here to learn something, we must—”
Lü Lingju glanced around at her little friends, and they all echoed, “We’ll keep an eye on them.”
Lü Bu patted her head, “This isn’t farming time; you should call me ‘dad’.”
Lü Lingju protested, “Nonsense! It’s important to prevent spies from sneaking into the academy. This is purely official business.”
Lü Bu felt he probably couldn’t keep his daughter at this rate.
Fortunately, he quickly found an excuse to leave Bingzhou early, temporarily avoiding the situation of ‘General Lü’ and ‘General Lü’ all over again.
Since last year, when Qiao Yan got her hands on that livestock breeding manual, training had started at the Leping Fortress in Bingzhou with carrier pigeons, and it had been six months since then.
In those six months, the first month went into getting the pigeons comfortable and home-trained, and the latter months were spent in repeated flying training, now yielding good results.
So in April, with the spring plowing almost done, and only the cotton fields left, the pigeons were dispatched by dedicated personnel to various locations for testing their long-distance flights.
However, a few of the pigeons had only been taken off for a few days before flying back, and they arrived almost simultaneously.
Seeing that the pigeons had messages attached to their feet, the officer in charge of raising them quickly sent the bamboo tubes with the letters to the Bingzhou government, where Xi Zhicai cracked the information using the agreed code.
He swiftly had the decoded news sent to Lü Bu so it could quickly reach Qiao Yan.
Two days after Lü Bu left, the first message was urgently relayed, while the other would probably take at least ten days to arrive.
Xi Zhicai couldn’t help but admire Qiao Yan for her initiative in training carrier pigeons.
These birds could only provide one-way communication. Some were lost on the way back—not sure if they’d been caught by predators or simply couldn’t find their way back—but once a message was delivered, the time saved was astonishing.
And this method of encrypting messages certainly was not difficult to break with the context of mulberry bark paper being used for dense record-keeping, but it undeniably prevented the enemy from intercepting messages.
These two letters were quickly delivered to Qiao Yan in Wuwei Commandery by Lü Bu riding Red Hare.
One letter was from Yang Province, and the other was from Yanzhou.
Both related to military matters.
Just after the spring plowing period, issues of war broke out across the lands of the Han, exactly as Qiao Yan had anticipated.
The letter from Yang Province wrote that Sun Ce pretended his mobilization was due to being appointed as the Taishou of Kuaiji. After stabilizing the situation in Lujiang and Danyang, he aimed to further seize Kuaiji.
But midway through his march, he turned straight for Wu County, where Xu Gong and Yan Baihu faced him in a hasty battle, suffering defeat near Wucheng.
Unfortunately, one was a man with many retainers, and the other had a wild bunch under him, thus they clashed with Sun Ce around the Zhenze area.
Meanwhile, Yuan Shu, having rested over winter, sought revenge for the heavy losses he suffered at Sun Ce’s hands the previous year and mobilized to attack Lujiang County, only to face a well-prepared Zhou Yu and Lu Kang in Liu’an.
“How to say it, Yuan Gonglu may need to recruit a competent strategist.” Qiao Yan handed the battle report to Xun You beside her.
With Qiao Yan first stabilizing Liangzhou before moving towards Chang’an, while Xun You was concerned about Xun Shuang’s safety, he also knew this course of action was necessary.
It was hard for him to discern Qiao Yan’s current mindset.
Qiao Yan’s balanced approach of force and persuasion in Liangzhou left Xun You with no doubt that she could suppress the local aristocracy’s counterattack while pushing towards Chang’an.
The military powers she gathered under her command were sufficient to swiftly take down Dong Zhuo, saving everyone before they, too, fell into ruin.
But since the time Xun You had been borrowed by Xun Shuang to aid Qiao Yan, he was clear about another point.
He was not just a military advisor to Qiao Yan while she took the path into Liangzhou to reach Chang’an; he was also a pawn the Xun family of Yingchuan had staked in her plans.
Currently, no one suspected Qiao Yan of harboring ulterior motives; even Xun You had not realized this. Just like how literati would seek refuge under Grand General He Jin, it was a way the aristocracy would buy shares in the powerful, to bring about peace in chaos.
So he couldn’t expose Qiao Yan’s scheme.
Even when Liu Yu mistakenly believed Qiao Yan was being held back by moral obligations and felt guilty, during his brief conversations with Xun You, he never once warned the Han royal family member.
Looking at the spring landscape of Liangzhou where Qiang and Han people were farming together, Xun You thought about the chronic disturbances led by the Qiang and Hu people in his memory, and felt he had no ground to change Qiao Yan’s pace.
Rather than do something that would only benefit the enemy, it was better to focus on the duties of a military advisor.
For instance, analyzing the two battle reports that had just arrived.
“Yuan Gonglu is underestimating these two youngsters, Sun Ce and Zhou Yu. Lujiang and Jiujiang are neighbors, and since he thought to attack Lujiang while having seized Jiujiang, Lujiang would naturally be on guard against him again.”
Qiao Yan asked, “Do you think Yuan Gonglu could be driven straight out of Jiujiang and pushed into Yu Province?”
Xun You didn’t know about Qiao Yan’s arrangements in Xuzhou, where Mi Zhu had recommended Lu Su to Tao Qian to prevent Yuan Shu’s invasion.
But judging from the recent performance of Tao Qian and Yuan Shu, making a judgment didn’t seem hard.
Xun You replied, “I think he will not only be completely driven from Yang Province to Yu Province but will also seek to save face by asking for the position of Yu Province’s governor. However, given his title as General of the Chariots and Cavalry, what he does will truly be beneath his dignity. Yuan Shao has many capable men under him and won’t let him mix with Yuan Gonglu, making it unlikely he’ll get that edict.”
Qiao Yan pondered this and asked, “What do you think about Sun Ce?”
“The families in Jing Province dislike Sun Wentai, and those in Yang Province aren’t fond of Sun Ce either,” Xun You commented. “So he could win this battle, but he won’t take Wu County.”
If that’s the case… things might be looking favorable for Qiao Yan!
Xun You’s judgments aligned closely with her predictions. With his affirmation, Qiao Yan felt even more confident in planning her next step.
She promptly opened the second battle report.
Not long after Sun Ce’s mobilization in Wu County, Cao Cao initiated military expansion against Jiyin County and Dongping Kingdom, citing the neglect of civil affairs and rampant banditry causing the populace to suffer.
During his near two years in Dongjun, Cao Cao handled both civil matters and military matters extremely well; his commanders, Cao Ren and Xiahou Yuan had already meticulously mapped out their routes, so their circumstances starkly differed from Sun Ce’s.
Before the Jiyin Prefect and Dongping could create effective countermeasures upon receiving the news, they were already detained.
And Cao Cao refrained from attacking the adjacent Chenliu precisely because the current prefect there was his good friend, Zhang Miao.
Zhang Miao’s boldness could be considered both large and small.
As soon as Jiyin’s announcement dropped, he went to Dongjun to catch up with Cao Cao.
Qiao Yan chuckled, “Zhang Mengzhu’s recommendation of Mengde as the governor of Yanzhou probably will arrive in Ye City along with this battle report. How do you think Yuan Shao will react?”
As Qiao Yan and Xun You speculated—
Yuan Shu was fleeing Yu Province, seeking the position of governor there, while Cao Cao took Yanzhou and requested for Zhang Miao to be made governor of Yanzhou, both tidings reaching Yuan Shao’s desk one after the other.
