The Orchid Farmer's Sacrifice

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by Fred Yu


  The messenger threw his head back to laugh. He glanced at his comrades and seated himself. “You’re a reasonable lad. What do you want? Money? Rank?”

  “I heard there’s a vacant spot for colonel in the Judge’s army. It used to be Ko Sun’s. I want that spot.”

  The messengers looked at each other again before turning to Feng. “How do you know . . .”

  “I have many friends working for the Judge,” Feng said with a big smile. “But they’re not high in rank. So, the first condition for my surrender is a guarantee I get to be colonel in the Judge’s army.”

  “And why would you join the Judge if you’re already so well regarded by a Tiger General?”

  “Everyone knows the Judge is the future emperor,” Feng said. “Everyone also knows my uncle will fall out of favor. There’s nothing wrong with a man finding a better future for himself. I don’t want to fight the future emperor, but I do want to preserve the lives of my men. What’s wrong with that?”

  The messenger nodded with a smile. “And your second condition?”

  “I want a guarantee that my uncle will not be harmed. He’s not here because he left to defend the country. I want both conditions in writing.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll have it. After your surrender we will work for the same master.”

  “Excellent! Let’s have a grand party tonight to welcome you to the city. There’s plenty of food here. We’ll treat the Judge’s entire army to a great feast, and my men will eat with your men. We’ll all be brothers.”

  The messenger laughed.

  * * *

  Sunset arrived. Feng received the scroll with the Judge’s seal detailing the terms of the surrender. The seal indicated the Judge’s rank as a category-one official.

  The Yellow Sleeper was ready. Feng had the concoction strained and placed into ordinary water buckets. He assigned a few men dressed as peasants to bring them to each of the sixteen wells in the city and pour the solution into the wells. They were still in the middle of the dry season in the north, and Feng knew the wells were not full. The sheer quantity of yellow foxgloves, which a thousand men had gathered, would be able to contaminate the entire city’s water supply. The civilians would sleep well that night.

  When the top general from the Judge’s army entered the city with twenty thousand men and a group of eight commanders behind him, Feng came forward to greet them like they were family. The pungent smell of roast pork already permeated the air.

  “This is a wonderful day!” Feng said. “Please, come on in.”

  A soldier ran up to him. “Sir!”

  Feng spun around in fury. “You are to address me as Colonel!”

  The general behind him laughed.

  The soldier bowed his head. “Yes, Colonel. The wine has been delivered, and the chefs say the first course is ready.”

  “Come, my brothers,” Feng said with a big smile. “Come see the best food and wine this city has to offer. We have tables and tents set up for your men. We will all feast together tonight.”

  Shortly afterward Feng seated the commanders in the grand hall. Large round tables with red embroidered tablecloths were prepared, and Feng brought the enemy commanders to the head table, where he seated himself next to them. He motioned for the wine and the first course to be served.

  The wine was poured, but the servant brought a basic wooden bucket to Feng and poured water into his bowl.

  “What’s this?” one of the commanders asked.

  “I have many health problems,” Feng said. “I truly apologize. I’m not allowed to drink, or I may die.”

  “What kind of nonsense is this? A young man like you?”

  “I apologize, my brothers. I’ll be eating everything on the table tonight. But I’m afraid I cannot drink.”

  The general sneered, scoffing at him from the corner of his eye. “That’s fine. If the colonel is in poor health, we understand.” He turned to the servant. “Is that some special water you’re serving the colonel?”

  “No, sir,” the servant replied. “It’s water from the well outside.”

  “Well, we can’t let the colonel drink water alone,” the general said. “Tonight is a big night. He’s celebrating his promotion. We will all drink water with him, and we’ll toast to his success!”

  “Yes, sir. I will serve the water.” The servant picked up the bucket to fill their bowls.

  Feng laughed, lifted his bowl with a polite nod, and drank the water. “The water in this city doesn’t taste very good.”

  “Better yet,” the general said, motioning for one of his guards to approach. “My army is now joined together with the colonel’s. They should show a little respect and not drink wine while the colonel drinks water. Announce my orders. Our men are only allowed to drink water from the city wells tonight. There are to be no violations, or they will face martial punishment!”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for every man to fall asleep in the grand hall. Feng walked among them, pacing back and forth, waiting for his men to report on the situation outside. Finally one of his soldiers charged in.

  “General, the enemy soldiers are asleep.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes, and most of the civilians too.”

  “Good. I want the enemy soldiers stripped of all weapons and armor, and I want every one of them stabbed in the arm. None of them can use a sword for weeks after tonight. Understand?”

  “Yes, General.”

  “Afterward I want their arms bandaged. Have them moved outside the city walls.”

  “Yes, General!”

  The soldier left, and another charged in. “General, the guard you sentenced to death has escaped. Someone helped him out of the city. Do you want us to pursue?”

  “Let them be,” Feng said. “We have a lot to do, and we can’t worry about it. Bring me ten strong men. I want the enemy commanders in this room hauled outside and beheaded. Plant their heads outside the city walls so their soldiers can see them first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes, General!”

  Feng couldn’t sleep that night. He almost wished he wasn’t immune to the poison so the Yellow Sleeper would take effect on him. He had scored a big victory, wiping out the enemy commanders and capturing an army ten times the size of his own without losing a single life. Yet, the task facing him was more daunting than he could imagine. He had to face Zeng Xi with impossible odds. The enemy general he ordered to be beheaded was a fool, but Zeng Xi was the Great Prodigy. One small miscalculation, and Zeng Xi would barrel through the Glimpse of Sky, and generals Yang and Wu would be exposed to siege weapons.

  Feng climbed out of bed at dawn, drew the Dart, and refreshed his memory on the four sword sets his brother taught him. He thought of Han and Ah Go and wondered how they were doing.

  He thought of Ming and stopped training. He stood in the middle of the floor and bowed his head, releasing one deep sigh after another. When would he see her again?

  Feng sat at his desk and read over the agreement of his surrender. The wording was exactly what he asked for. One of the conditions was to spare General Yang’s life, and agreeing to spare his life meant the Judge intended to kill him in the first place. The Tiger Generals were mandated by the emperor to defend the country. The intent to kill a Tiger General would be legally regarded as treason.

  Feng lifted his brush and wrote a long order on a fresh scroll. He summoned the scribe.

  “Duplicate the words on this scroll,” Feng said when the scribe came running into the room. “The Judge is guilty of treason based on evidence he himself signed and stamped. Send these scrolls to every governor of every province, and make it clear anyone who provides any support to the Judge is also guilty of treason. Also, every government official and military personnel is responsible for arresting the traitor. Let it be known there’s a reward of one thousand pieces of gold for the Judge’s capture—dead or alive, I don’t care. Get the word out
right away.”

  The scribe bowed and took the scroll. Feng turned to another messenger, who had been waiting by the door. He came to announce that many enemy soldiers had woken. Feng slipped on his armor, tucked the Dart into his belt, and stepped into the open air. He gave the order for all civilians to draw their water from nearby villages this week and instructed his men to prepare for departure. They would march to the Glimpse of Sky that evening.

  Feng stood on top of the city walls. Twenty thousand men stripped of weapons and armor and suffering from painful spear wounds to their arms sat frightened and whispered to each other.

  “Soldiers of the Chinese empire!” Feng called, projecting his voice outside the city walls. “You have been captured and disarmed. Your commanders have been executed for treason, and all of you should share that fate. But today I release you so you can go home to your parents, your wives, your children. Today I send you on your way with a simple message. We joined the military to defend our people, not to kill them. We give up our lives so the women and children can live unharmed. You are soldiers, but you are not the Judge’s soldiers. You are not the Tiger Generals’ soldiers, and you are not the emperor’s soldiers. You are soldiers of the people—the same parents and wives and children you will now live to see again. Go home and till the fields so your family can eat well. Raise your livestock and save money so your children can learn to read. There is no glory in joining an army that kills its own people. There is only shame when you tell your mothers how well you fought against the people defending our country. Go home humbled, and tomorrow, wake up better men.”

  The men listened with their heads bowed, their eyes staring at the ground. They whispered to each other, and one after another they picked themselves up to leave. Feng exhaled. He did not kill the enemy. Han would be proud of him.

  Feng turned to descend from the top of the city wall when a scout ran forward, his forehead dripping sweat. He didn’t even have time to bow.

  “General! Disaster! General Wu has been assassinated!”

  Feng froze, a wave of cold tearing through his skin. Han failed. How could that be?

  “Who did it?” he asked.

  “We heard the Commoner killed General Wu and all his deputy generals together. It was done in the street. Many people saw.”

  “How!” Feng shouted. “Who is this Commoner?” His hands began to shake. So, the Judge was really using assassins against the Tiger Generals. With Wu dead, Yang may no longer have command of a hundred thousand men. If Zeng Xi got through the Glimpse of Sky with his own army of fifty thousand, Yang would be outnumbered two to one.

  How long could Feng hold back a massive army with only two thousand men? Delaying Zeng Xi for a few days or even weeks would be meaningless. He would have to defeat him.

  “Message!” someone shouted. Another soldier ran to Feng, equally agitated, and almost collapsed in front of him. “General!” he said, his voice weak and his lungs out of breath. “Zeng Xi discovered a shortcut through Yanming Pass. He’s going to arrive a week ahead of schedule.”

  “Mobilize at once!” Feng shouted.

  Chapter 15

  The long march to intercept Zeng Xi was grueling. Two thousand men in plate armor pushed forward at a quick pace, sometimes jogging, never resting. They moved on foot through Minor Pass, a few hours south of the Great Wall, which would lead them directly to the valleys. The most narrow passage led to the entrance known as the Glimpse of Sky.

  Feng did not permit his men to stop and rest, even at night when they were allowed to eat their only meal for the day; they ate dried biscuits and bread while walking. Every two days he permitted them to sleep for four hours, and early in the morning of the sixth day, the Glimpse of Sky was already visible from a distance.

  The men were in high spirits, and they obeyed Feng’s every word. They had witnessed this young general defeat a force ten times their size, and now, in the face of an experienced army twenty-five times their size, Feng’s pike men were excited and eager for battle.

  Scouts on fast horses reported he was ahead of Zeng Xi by only a day and informed Feng that General Yang’s army had just entered the City of Eternal Peace. It was said that General Wu’s city could be seen from the cliffs hovering over the narrow passageway.

  Feng led his army across a narrow stone bridge, still a good distance from the Glimpse of Sky, and paused to watch the river below him. The water was faster than a man could run, and it seemed too deep to cross, even on horseback. When he attacked the mouth of the Glimpse of Sky, Zeng Xi’s back would face this river somewhere further upstream.

  The passageways of the Glimpse of Sky provided a natural place to position his men against a much larger force, but Zeng Xi would expect it. Placing them in wide-open terrain across the river would be unthinkable.

  Feng moved his men along the river, still watching the water flow, and finally noticed a curve ahead. He stopped. “Prepare five hundred sand bags. We’ll dam the river at the curve up there. Make sure I can’t see the dam from where I am.”

  “Yes, General!” they responded in unison.

  By early afternoon the river was under control, and the soldiers were able to run across. Feng ordered a thousand men to cross the river and hide themselves close by. He told them to rest well and prepare to engage the enemy that night. He posted a hundred men to guard the dam and gave them instructions before proceeding.

  The Glimpse of Sky was a narrow passageway enclosed by tall canyons, the massive walls on either side almost casting a permanent shadow on the path—hence the name. Feng traveled through here as a child when his father came to visit General Wu, and he remembered his father pointing out the strange rock formations hovering above the path and explaining how soldiers could hide behind them undetected. The thought of his father brought a lump to his throat. He wanted to go home.

  Deep in the passageway Feng ordered his men to pitch camp, cook a decent meal for themselves, and sleep well. Zeng Xi was due to arrive by sunset. He told his men he would guard the pass by himself and allow them to sleep until nightfall. The pike men looked at each other, but no one dared second-guess their new general.

  Feng planted the flag of General Yang at the mouth of the pass, placed a table and a chair in the middle of the entrance, and sat down to play Wei Chi. He was tired, but his face was hot with excitement. The thought of facing his sister’s murderer brought new life into his veins, and he could hardly focus on his game. He watched the sun every now and then in stark anticipation of twilight.

  Brilliant rays of golden light flooded the land by the time Zeng Xi’s first scouts arrived. Two men on horseback approached, took one look at Feng, and turned around. The scouts would return three more times to assess the terrain before the vanguard of Zeng Xi’s massive army could be seen.

  Feng sipped on fine liquor and played his game. He was glad to be wearing clean clothes and having a good drink again.

  Zeng Xi’s vanguard consisted of twenty thousand pike men in full plate armor. They stopped a good distance from the mouth of the Glimpse of Sky, planted their pikes with a uniform thud, and shuffled aside to open a path for Zeng Xi.

  Zeng Xi sat in a chariot plated with gold, his own helmet glowing against the sunset. Feng sipped his liquor, placed a white piece on his gameboard, and ignored the fifty thousand men in front of him. His heart pounded so hard he thought his ribs would crack.

  Zeng Xi signaled for his men to withdraw. They pulled back almost half a mile before Feng could exhale in relief. Zeng Xi was naturally suspicious. He expected a trap.

  Feng left his gameboard in the middle of the path and turned to leave when a soldier ran up to report.

  “General! The City of Eternal Peace is under attack.”

  “Without siege weapons? How?”

  “Zhuge Nu archers are shooting into the city, sir!”

  “I see,” Feng said to himself. “They’re preventing General Yang’s men from taking positions inside. Observe the battle and report back to me!�


  “Yes, General!”

  A horse approached from behind. One of Zeng Xi’s messengers was riding toward him. A short distance behind the messenger, four people were preparing a small tent, a table, and two chairs. Zeng Xi wanted to talk.

  Feng whistled for his horse. Normally a handful of guards accompanied the general to a meeting, but Feng wanted to go alone. It would display confidence and fearlessness.

  Feng rode straight for the tent, dismounted, and seated himself. There was a small bottle of liquor on the table and two little cups. Zeng Xi approached on horseback with four of his followers, but when he saw Feng alone, he sent his men back to the camp.

  Zeng Xi was a tall man with a dark moustache and an imposing presence. His shiny armor and red cape screamed that he was the leader of a powerful army. Feng remembered meeting him many years ago, but he was certain Zeng Xi did not recognize him. He was only a child back then.

  Zeng Xi seated himself and reached for the liquor. He poured into Feng’s cup, then his, and waved for Feng to drink. He made no effort to pick up his own, waiting to see if Feng would drink first. The liquor could be poisoned. Drinking now would show Feng was foolhardy and inexperienced. Zeng Xi would never know his opponent was immune to poison, a status only reserved for Venom Sect greats.

  Feng grabbed the cup without hesitating and sipped the liquor, allowing it to swirl in his mouth before swallowing. “This liquor is very . . . pedestrian. There is no excitement, no unexpected surprise in the aftertaste. Shouldn’t a future Tiger General be drinking something a little more sophisticated?”

  Zeng Xi smiled. “Apologies for the simple drink. We’re rough military men, and we’ve never been educated in the finer things. But I can see you are. Who are you? How dare you use the name of a Tiger General?”

  “My surname is Mu, and I lead an army,” Feng said. “Why shouldn’t I be called General Mu?”

 

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