The fall of Hanshou was, in Shamoke's eyes, nothing less than open rebellion, and he swore that those responsible would pay the price.
Yet to the Pan clan of Hanshou, this was merely reclaiming what had always belonged to them.
After all, the pattern had been set since the Former Han. The mixed tribes dwelled in the mountains and forests, while Han people tilled the plains. Such was the natural order in their view.
From the reign of Emperor Wu onward, the number of Jingzhou Inspectors who had come and gone through Hanshou was beyond counting. Which one of them had not treated the local great clans with courtesy, relying on them and joining hands to suppress the tribes?
After the Yellow Turban chaos, the Inspectors of Jingzhou no longer favored Hanshou. They shifted their focus to Xiangyang, pouring their efforts into building it as the seat of governance.
The great clans who had taken root in Hanshou for generations did not leave. On the contrary, with the Inspector's authority absent, manipulation became easier. Hanshou, a crossroads that could control Jingman to the west and connect Yunmeng Marsh to the east, had in truth already fallen into the hands of the Pan clan and others like them.
Whether it was Sun Jian forcibly killing Inspector Wang Rui, or Liu Jingsheng entering Jingzhou alone on horseback, or his later decision to depose the elder and establish the younger which invited disaster, none of it counted as major events in the eyes of Hanshou's great clans.
Only when this seemingly unremarkable Liu Huangshu rose from a guest in Jingzhou to master of Jingnan, then repelled Cao in Jingxiang and sent troops into Hanzhong, did the great clans of Hanshou finally feel fear.
Yet even then, resentment followed closely behind that fear.
For example, Liu Huangshu showed notable closeness to the mixed tribes, while toward the Han great clans of Hanshou he neither inquired nor comforted them. Instead, there were even signs of suppression.
Pan Jun, a man of limited learning yet famous throughout Jingzhou, was not employed. Instead, Liu Huangshu chose Jiang Wan, whose family background was unremarkable. All of this was clearly seen from Hanshou, less than a hundred li away.
Thus now, with Jingnan showing signs of upheaval, the Pan clan had no objection to giving matters a push.
Compared to Liu Huangshu's forceful policies, the buqu and slave systems of Jiangdong looked far more appealing.
News of Hanshou's fall brought visible anger to the faces of the mixed tribal soldiers. Someone immediately shouted in rage.
"Han people truly cannot be trusted."
Before Shamoke could speak, even more tribesmen glared at the speaker.
If Han people were untrustworthy, then what of Mister Ma, who had eaten and lived with them for years?
Moreover, the group that brought the news was itself half Han and half tribal.
According to Mister Ma's previous teachings, such words would chill the hearts of their Han brothers.
Thus someone laughed and cursed.
"In my view, those great clan youths look at Han brothers no differently than they look at us."
This sentiment drew frequent nods from both tribesmen and Han soldiers present.
Shamoke said nothing. Having rested enough, he lifted the iron club once more.
"First, retake Hanshou."
There was no joy or fury on his face. He was merely stating a command.
One reason Shamoke respected Mister Ma was the orderly governance of Hanshou.
Roads were repaired. Low walls were built. Clinics were established. Schools were founded. Farming methods were promoted. The cooked food and clean water order was issued.
Every policy showed immediate results. At the very least, even the mixed tribes who had long been treated as base and ignoble by the great clans were given a life they could look forward to.
Especially notable was that Lord Xuande did not look at birth. Even tribesmen were temporarily appointed to office. In Wuling Commandery, this had never happened before.
As for why the appointments were temporary, Mister Ma explained it clearly. When the realm was pacified, Lord Xuande would select officials by merit. If these tribal kings failed the assessment then removal would be the only outcome.
Likewise, if they passed, even mixed tribes could receive formal appointments.
By comparison, the great clans' previous hold over Hanshou was more occupation than governance.
The powerful were like swine, the common people like mud. This had once been Mister Ma's joking remark. After careful thought, Shamoke found it painfully accurate.
He remembered even more clearly that Mister Ma often spoke of a word called the future. The mixed tribes did not wish to see Jiangdong smash that future to pieces.
On the low walls of Hanshou, the private troops of the great clans saw an aggressive force of tribal soldiers approaching.
"They do not even retreat to the forests but come straight here. These barbarian dogs truly do not know death," someone sneered.
They had already colluded with Jiangdong and knew full well that Jiangdong's main army was close behind these tribesmen.
The tribesmen were fierce, but how could they be skilled in siege warfare?
They only needed to defend lightly and wait for Jiangdong's forces to arrive. Then the tribesmen would surely scatter and die.
Shamoke's infantry also showed clear confusion as they looked at Hanshou.
Though both were low walls, Lin Yuan's walls were only half a man high, sometimes not even reaching the waist. One could climb them with hands and feet. They served only as slight obstacles.
Hanshou's walls were different. They had been built by their own hands last year and stood a full man's height.
Such a height could be climbed with effort in peacetime. In battle, however, panting and scrambling up the wall would only invite a blade to the head.
Shamoke did not choose a simple and brutal assault. He ordered the infantry to halt, whispered with his guards, and watched as they departed to carry out their task.
He chose to wait.
Instead, Hanshou grew restless. The quality of the private troops was uneven to begin with. Though forced by threat and inducement to take up arms and man the walls, the sight of over ten thousand tribesmen made their hearts tremble.
A troop leader immediately shouted toward the tribesmen.
"Shamoke. You fear the strong walls ahead and Sun Hou's elite troops behind. Regret will come too late."
"Why not bind yourself and surrender? If my lord is kind, perhaps you may live as a slave household."
Shamoke dug at his ear, finding the words ridiculous. Since they barked so eagerly, he was not unwilling to answer.
Relying on the toughness of his rattan armor, the tribal king stepped closer and his voice boomed.
"Who are you?"
There was some commotion on the wall before the voice shouted back.
"I am Liu Three Knives. Remember the one who will behead you today."
"What pig or dog is that?"
"You." The man on the wall choked with rage, coughing violently.
Shamoke did not stop. His roars came one after another.
"I am Shamoke, Magistrate of Hanshou and King of the Five Streams Tribes. My seals are intact. What office do you hold?"
"I am personally appointed by Lord Xuande to govern this place. You are all my subjects. Now you rebel against your superior. Do you intend to oppose the Han?"
"I advise you now. If you surrender, there is still room. If I suppress this rebellion, under Han law rebels are cut at the waist and followers are executed in the marketplace. Do you understand?"
The soldiers on the low walls looked at one another, the scene before them utterly chaotic. A tribal king was solemnly persuading Han people not to commit treason and citing Han law in explanation.
Only after Shamoke's emphasis did they realize that this tribal king was also a Han official, the county magistrate of this place.
Though the times were chaotic, four hundred years of Han authority still weighed heavy. These wretched people unconsciously lowered their weapons.
The great clan retainers saw this clearly and grew anxious, yet with the other side standing firmly on Han legitimacy, they found themselves unable to respond.
Shamoke had no interest in prolonging verbal sparring. Seeing several guards return carrying a freshly cut tree trunk as thick as a man's embrace, he decided to end the farce.
He and the guards hoisted the trunk, aimed at a section of wall ten paces to the right, and charged forward in rhythm.
The first reaction of the retainers on the wall was laughter. These barbarians truly did not know siegecraft.
Even a fool knew that such a crude ram was meant for gates, not walls.
Then the trunk struck the wall with a heavy thud, and the laughter stopped.
Something was wrong. A wall of rammed earth should be solid. It should not sound like this, unless.
The rattan armored soldiers ignored all else. With Shamoke's shouts they withdrew and charged again, repeating the motion. Soon, soil began to fall from the wall.
With the final impact, that section of wall collapsed outright, exposing wooden stakes and planks inside. Panic erupted among the private troops.
No orders were needed. Shamoke's men began their crude assault.
What collapsed with the wall was also the scant confidence of the great clans' private soldiers. Some knelt and begged. Others stripped armor and weapons in the chaos, trying to flee.
The most conspicuous man, the one who had called himself Liu Three Knives, was captured and delivered before Shamoke.
His former arrogance was gone. Only trembling legs and forced humility remained.
Shamoke pondered briefly, then waved his hand in boredom. Guards immediately seized the man to drag him away.
The man's expression shattered. He wailed sharply.
"My king. General. Magistrate."
"I am willing to atone with merit. I know where the Pan clan hides its wealth."
"Magistrate. I beg to live."
Shamoke lifted his chin slightly without a word. The guards understood. One keen eyed guard selected a squad and escorted the man away to seize the hidden assets.
The hollow section of the wall had been a contingency left after Shamoke reported to Mister Ma.
A low wall could have a hollow section without affecting function. Moreover, any enemy faced with such a wall would instinctively try to climb it, not use a crude ram as he had.
The Pan clan's rebellion was nothing more than a clown act. Shamoke was even grateful they jumped out on their own, giving him the perfect excuse to deal with Hanshou's tangled great clans.
The main problem remained Jiangdong.
Shamoke's expression turned grave. Thirty thousand Jiangdong troops pursued closely from behind. To the south, Lin Yuan would likely soon be surrounded by Wu troops as well.
Shamoke could not see everything, but he knew that Mister Ma had entered Jiangdong to ally with the mountain tribes. He also knew that Lord Xuande likely had further arrangements to coordinate with Mister Ma.
Thus there was no other choice. Surrounded on all sides, they must hold firm.
Far beyond Shamoke's sight, the entire southern situation grew ever more tense.
Jiangdong raised a massive army to besiege Hanshou, aiming to wipe out this tribal force so they could proceed with their plans for Jingnan.
Jiang Wan saw that the soldiers of Gong'an County were dwindling. They had begun to send troops out frequently to probe and clash.
Gan Gui watched Sun Hou abandon the damaged outer city and retreat to the inner city, leaving the range of the fleet's great crossbows and making assault difficult.
Ma Liang and the mountain tribes had joined forces to capture Piling and seize salt, yet when they attempted to press west toward Jianye, they could not advance an inch.
At this moment, the Administrator of Cangwu, Wu Ju, wanted nothing more than to let out a long howl to vent his excitement.
Though he was on good terms with Lord Xuande, and though Cangwu Commandery belonged to Jiaozhou and thus had no direct affiliation, when Jiangdong launched its great offensive, Wu Ju and Lai Gong gathered troops at once to provide support.
This was for Lord Xuande and for themselves.
Recalling the past, had it not been for General Zhang's aid when Bu Zhi came years ago, Wu Ju might already lie beneath green cypresses.
No one understood Jiangdong's ambition toward Jiaozhou better than Wu Ju and Lai Gong.
Yet the harsh reality was that Jiaozhou was poor.
One a dignified Administrator of Cangwu, the other the Inspector of Jiaozhou, they exhausted all efforts and could muster only two thousand troops.
Marching north from Guangxin along the He River, they collided head on with Jiangdong forces at Fengcheng.
Wu Ju was not ignorant of warfare. In his view, Jiangdong soldiers were stronger than Jiaozhou's, but only by a limited margin.
In numbers, however, Jiangdong far exceeded them.
For over twenty days, two thousand men were pinned in the Fengcheng camp area, unable to advance even a step.
Wu Ju's dream of marching north to Jiangling, boasting of merit, then returning in triumph was utterly shattered.
What Wu Ju did not expect was that while he was locked in a stalemate with Jiangdong, Lord Xuande could still send reinforcements from behind him.
Wu Ju had not felt such excitement in a long time. From morning he paced restlessly in his tent. The wine was warmed again and again. The food reheated again and again.
Only at noon did he see, from afar, a column of soldiers arriving by boat along the He River from the south.
After disembarking, Zhang Ni was immediately welcomed inside by Wu Ju.
After exchanging names, Wu Ju's spirits soared. He laid out his arrangements openly.
"Supplies here are ample. The general has come far and is weary. Rest today. Tomorrow our two armies together will surely break the enemy."
Zhang Ni had already learned the situation on the way. He did not even sit, standing as he replied.
"Our troops have come from afar. The enemy is unaware. This is the perfect moment for a surprise strike. Please provide cover for me."
Zhang Ni's smile was gentle, yet beneath that gentleness lay firm resolve. In the end, Wu Ju could only yield and lead him to the front lines, pointing out the enemy's deployment in detail.
Seeing the general listen attentively, Wu Ju finally felt some relief.
Yet moments later, when he saw this gentle smiling general charge first into the fray, Wu Ju felt a surge of regret.
So everything I just said was for nothing.
Then, beyond Wu Ju's expectations, the Yizhou troops who should have been weary cut through Jiangdong's formation like an arrow through rotten silk.
That general, not tall of stature, whose smile turned slightly wild once in the fray, looked under the sunlight like a war god.
Jingnan is saved.
Wu Ju shouted this in his heart.