Chapter 8: A Time of Chaos (8)
After eating the crude meal prepared by Qian Yuan, Li Kuo bid farewell to the governor of Yingzhou and Eunuch Zhu, then returned to his room alone.
Logically, since setting out from Jianghuai and Yangzhou, the army had marched only forty to fifty li per day, which wasn’t too far. Yet Li Kuo felt an inexplicable fatigue. He placed his sword on the table and let out a long sigh. Perhaps this was what people meant by inner demons at work!
In the past, the Tang army that was ordered to return to the capital always emerged victorious, greeted along the way with triumphal music—its pride almost palpable. But now, he had been summoned in a time of crisis to aid the emperor!
An Lushan’s rebellion had stirred up many people’s fears. Many generals who claimed to be “loyal” to the court and the emperor took this opportunity to act arrogantly, seeking to gain as much benefit as possible. It was human nature, and there was nothing wrong with that. But when all these dark sides were exposed before Li Kuo without any concealment, he couldn’t help but feel furious.
If the nation perished, what would even the soldiers matter? These generals couldn’t even grasp such a basic truth—how could they still be considered great generals guarding the realm for the emperor?
Hebei had fallen, Hedong was in crisis, and the Eastern Capital had also fallen…
If everyone thought in such terms, it wasn’t surprising that the Tang Dynasty was on the verge of collapse.
“Yanji, Yanji!”
Every night before going to bed, Li Kuo would drink a pot of green tea to moisten his lungs, and it was always his close friend Zhang Yanji who did this for him. Naturally, he thought of Zhang Yanji first.
But after calling out twice, Zhang Yanji didn’t enter the room, which surprised Li Kuo greatly. Just as he was about to get up and check what was going on, the wooden door creaked open.
“Commander, you’re still awake?”
Dou Qing held a tray in his hands, with a purple clay teapot emitting gentle smoke on it.
“Oh, Brother Dou. How did you come here?”
Li Kuo smiled slightly and gestured with one arm toward the table beside him.
Dou Qing set down the teapot and sat down, saying, “Since the commander called for someone, I brought you tea right away.”
Li Kuo smiled and said, “Brother Dou is really kind to me. But usually, it’s Yanji who does this.”
Dou Qing paused slightly before saying, “Has the commander forgotten? General Zhang left for Anxi to take up defense half a month ago.”
“Hmm.”
Li Kuo responded as if struck dumb and said nothing more. Indeed, how could he have forgotten that Yan Ji had already received the imperial order to go and garrison Anxi? Even if Yan Ji was reluctant and unwilling in every way, what could he do? It was an imperial order—could he possibly defy it?
Li Kuo vaguely remembered the scene of seeing off Zhang Yan Ji on a snowy night. That boy was too loyal and emotional; he couldn’t hold back his tears, which streamed down like a little lady—like something made of water!
He had tried to persuade him that Anxi was crucial to the Tang Dynasty. Now that the rebels in Anxi had risen up, the court needed to focus on suppressing the rebellion, thus reducing its attention to the four garrisons. But that didn’t mean the Tang Dynasty would abandon them—after all, they were vital for protecting the Silk Road and served as the gateway to the Longyou region. The existence of the four garrisons in Anxi could effectively defend against the Arabs in the west, the Tibetans in the south, and even the Uyghurs in the north.
There are no eternal allies in the world. Who could guarantee that after internal chaos in the Tang Dynasty, the Uyghur khans, who had once been so obedient to the Heavenly Khan, wouldn’t turn against them? After all, the barbarians only cared about profit—weren’t the change of sides by the Göktürks at Talas and An Lushan’s rebellion the best proof of that?
Yet Yan Ji was still childlike, saying that since even the Tang Dynasty’s capital couldn’t be defended, what use were those four garrisons in Anxi?
Li Kuo scolded him harshly before he stopped complaining.
Amidst the swirling snow, they drank wine to bid each other farewell.
Even if one was nine parts heroic and one part drunk, the taste of separation was still hard to bear—especially when the person leaving was his childhood friend, someone he had been with day and night for over a decade without ever being apart!
“Dou Qing, how long do you think it will take for the court to quell the rebellion in Anxi?”
Li Kuo gulped down a cup of green tea, his expression filled with desolation.
“That’s hard to say. But in my opinion, it could take at most a year or at least half a year before the court can crush the rebels’ morale. After all, the Tang court is the legitimate one. An Lushan is just a barbarian—what right does he have to compete with His Majesty for the people’s support?”
Dou Qing thought for a moment before giving such a cautious answer. After all, once war broke out, no one could predict how long it would last until the end. But the rebels in Anxi were clearly traitors and wouldn’t have the people’s support. As the saying goes, he who wins the hearts of the people wins the world. From this perspective, the Tang Dynasty had a clear advantage.
Had His Majesty truly won the hearts of the people?
Li Kuo smiled bitterly inwardly and chose not to comment. If the emperor of decades ago was full of vigor, having created the prosperous Kaiyuan era through bold reforms and earning the love and admiration of the people, then, to speak disrespectfully, the current emperor indulges in pleasure and has lost all trace of the self-discipline and magnanimity expected of a monarch. Could such a ruler truly deserve the people’s respect? Li Kuo didn’t know, nor did he want to know—only time could prove such things. “Enough of this. You should rest well too; we set off tomorrow.” Li Kuo forced a smile and patted Dou Qing’s shoulder. He was already very tired, but he couldn’t stop; he had to keep moving forward. Even if the country collapsed, someone had to step up, right? Li Kuo didn’t consider himself a hero, but he was a Tang man—a man who dared to wield a sword and charge into battle to slay barbarian chiefs and defend his country… That night, there were no words. Early in the morning, Li Kuo took out the map he carried and spread it on the table, carefully planning his next steps. Since ancient times, Tongguan had been a natural stronghold. He believed that with proper arrangements, An Lushan wouldn’t rashly advance westward in the short term. This meant he had enough time to bring this army, mostly composed of men from the Jianghuai region, to Guanzhong. So, what he needed to address urgently wasn’t time, but how to avoid An Lushan’s main forces. The world was like a chessboard, with Luoyang at its center. Anyone who had played chess, whether a master with exquisite skills or a poor player who could only see their immediate surroundings, generally understood the most important aspect of playing chess—establishing a strategic framework. With a solid framework, one could handle tasks effortlessly, capture cities with ease, and achieve victory in the blink of an eye.