Chapter Fifty-Three: The Surrender

When the news reached Xiangyang that Zhang Ji had been killed by a stray arrow and Zhang Xiu had taken command of the troops, retreating to Shunyang, Liu Biao’s attendants began offering him congratulations.

Within the provincial governor’s mansion in Xiangyang, Liu Biao was surrounded by Kuai Liang, Deng Yi, Liu He, Zhuge Xuan, Liu Xian, Deng Hong, Wen Ying, and his trusted follower Cheng Qi. They all served as Liu Biao’s staff, deputies, administrators, and officers.

It had been mentioned before that, in reality, those who accompanied Liu Biao daily were not Cai Mao and Kuai Yue, but rather these provincial officials. Cai Mao and Kuai Yue were already minor lords in their own right, capable of maintaining their own retinue and appointing subordinate officers, granting them higher status.

Yet, despite their elevated positions, these officials attended to Liu Biao’s affairs day in and day out, always within his sight. Shen Chen also frequently visited the governor’s mansion—sometimes to see his uncle, sometimes to seek Liu Biao’s guidance on classical texts.

Over time, Deng Hong and his grandson Shen Chen became familiar faces throughout the mansion. Today, Shen Chen happened to be present, having come to visit Deng Hong, when he was suddenly summoned by Liu Biao to join the meeting in the main hall.

Once everyone had assembled, Liu Biao looked around and said, “Gentlemen, news has come from Rang City: Zhang Ji was killed by an arrow, and the Western Liang Army has already withdrawn.”

“Congratulations, Lord! You have defended this land; the people of Jing Province all feel your benevolence.”

“As the lord and protector, your power commands the four seas. These brigands from Western Liang who dared invade Jing Province have only sought their own destruction.”

“With this repulse of the Western Liang Army, your name will surely resound throughout the east of the passes!”

The various officials showered Liu Biao with praise for defeating the invaders, their flattery echoing loudly. Only Shen Chen, sitting far below, noticed that Liu Biao’s expression was not particularly pleased. He quickly whispered a few words to Deng Hong.

Deng Hong’s face paled slightly; he shook his head as if to refuse, but Shen Chen said a few more words, leaving him no choice but to stand and say, “My lord, since the Western Liang Army has been repulsed, why do you seem unhappy?”

Liu Biao sighed, “Though we defeated them, our casualties were greater. The Western Liang Army fought fiercely in the open, not only breaking Deng Ji’s division and killing thousands, but with just four thousand men managed to drive back my thirteen thousand. How can I find joy in this?”

“Ah…”

The officials exchanged glances; upon reflection, it did indeed seem there was little cause for celebration.

Deng Hong said, “Western Liang is impoverished; only the brave survive there, so their ferocity is unsurprising. I think my lord may worry that, though they have retreated, they might still attack Nanyang. To destroy them completely would require a steep price.”

“Yes, with just ten thousand men, they have given our twenty thousand such trouble. To annihilate them would require sending all of Nanyang’s forces and even reinforcements from Xiangyang.”

Liu Biao’s face was grim as water; at fifty-four, he was not yet in his dotage.

The enemy’s strength in open battle far exceeded that of Jing Province’s forces, making him deeply concerned that another campaign would require at least forty or fifty thousand troops to subdue ten thousand, and the cost would be great.

Seeing Liu Biao’s reaction as Shen Chen had predicted, Deng Hong relaxed and said, “My lord, I have a suggestion.”

“Oh?”

Liu Biao glanced unobtrusively at Shen Chen, saw him sitting quietly at the end, and understood. He asked, “What clever plan do you have, Young Shuo?”

Deng Hong replied, “Zhang Ji came to Nanyang for provisions, forced by the famine in the Guanzhong region; he likely had no wish to fight in Jing Province. Now that the Western Liang Army’s leader is dead, their morale must be shaken. If my lord sends an envoy to offer surrender, providing food and money, surely they can be won over and put to your service—would that not be excellent?”

Surrender?

Liu Biao stroked his goatee thoughtfully.

Before he could speak, someone objected, “My lord, this cannot be! The Western Liang Army is fickle, often surrendering only to rebel again. If we welcome them, are we not inviting thieves through our gates?”

“Yes, they were all under Dong Zhuo. Speak not of Dong Zhuo, but of Li Jue and Guo Si—are they not all enemies of the state? How can we negotiate with them?”

“My lord, this is impossible. The Western Liang Army is ambitious and wild; if we give them resources, they may grow strong and turn against us!”

Many voiced opposition to Deng Hong’s proposal—not out of personal animosity, for Deng Hong was sociable and well-liked, always exchanging gifts at festivals.

The issue was the reputation of the Western Liang Army. They had deposed emperors, poisoned the deposed emperor and empress, plundered royal tombs, forcibly moved the capital, massacred the populations of Luoyang and Guanzhong, attacked Chang’an and kidnapped the emperor, murdered high-ranking ministers indiscriminately.

Compared to their crimes, even Cao Cao’s slaughter of hundreds of thousands in Xuzhou seemed trivial.

Cao Cao, though dubbed “Little Dong Zhuo,” committed similar acts—massacres, grave robbing, killing empresses, abducting the emperor, murdering ministers. Yet at least Cao Cao maintained a semblance of propriety, and his political skill far surpassed Dong Zhuo’s; he claimed the slogan “Uphold the Emperor to punish traitors” and stabilized the north, unifying the realm.

Thus, though their actions were similar, Cao Cao was far superior in capability and reputation. At the time, the Western Liang Army was not quite universally condemned, but they were certainly despised.

So when Deng Hong suggested Liu Biao recruit Zhang Ji’s Western Liang troops, most officials objected, fearing their lack of credibility and the possibility of betrayal.

Only Kuai Liang, after weighing the pros and cons, suddenly stood and saluted, “My lord.”

“Hmm?” Liu Biao looked at Kuai Liang, “What opinion have you, Zi Rou?”

Kuai Liang said, “Young Shuo is not wrong. Though the Western Liang Army is erratic, Zhang Ji is now at the end of his rope, facing annihilation. It would be easy to destroy them, but why waste our soldiers’ lives? ‘The desperate army is always victorious;’ even if we wipe them out, the cost would be dreadful.”

“So you also think I should accept their surrender?” Liu Biao asked.

Kuai Liang nodded, “Yes, accept their surrender and station them in Wan City to guard the gates of Jing Province. Even if they rebel, Xiangyang is not endangered.”

Station them at Wan City?

The officials exchanged glances, considering Kuai Liang’s words. If the Western Liang Army were integrated into Jing Province’s forces, internal chaos could threaten the central hub of Xiangyang. But if stationed at Wan City, it would be different.

Wan City lies in the northern part of Nanyang, closer to Runan and further from Xiangyang. Even if the Western Liang Army rebelled, they would have to cross the defensive triangle of Xinye, Huyang, and Chaoyang, then attack Fancheng before reaching Xiangyang. By that time, Jing Province would have mobilized an army to suppress them, so there was no real danger to provincial security.

From another perspective, placing them in Wan City would create a northern shield. Any warlord from Henan wishing to attack Xiangyang would first have to defeat Zhang Ji’s Western Liang troops before reaching Jing Province.

Thus, losses would fall not on Jing Province’s army, and the province would be able to prepare thoroughly.

Such a win-win arrangement seemed quite reasonable.

“Zi Rou’s words are sound.”

“If stationed in Nanyang, there should be no harm.”

“As long as they don’t enter Jing Province.”

“My lord, I second the motion.”

“I second it as well.”

Several officials voiced their agreement.

In truth, Kuai Liang’s proposal to place the Western Liang Army at Wan City was sensible, but more importantly, it was Kuai Liang himself who said it.

Liu Biao had always relied most on Cai Mao, Huang Zu, Kuai Yue, and Kuai Liang.

Their positions spoke volumes: Cai Mao, as governor of Nan Commandery, commanded its forces to guard against Liu Zhang, Liu Biao’s chief rival. Huang Zu, as governor of Jiangxia, controlled the navy, blocking enemies from the east. Kuai Yue, as governor of Zhangling, managed troops in Xiangyang, Fancheng, and Zhangling, even supervising Zhang Yun, to guard against invasions from Henan. Kuai Liang served as Liu Biao’s chief secretary, outranking other officials; Liu Biao consulted him on all matters, making him his chief strategist.

In other words, Liu Biao entrusted the security of Jing Province to these four; aside from Liu Biao himself, their status was unrivaled.

Deng Hong, to some extent, was a mid-level official, his words carrying less weight.

But when such advice came from Kuai Liang, it was different.

Seeing the general support, Liu Biao nodded; this had been his own thought, especially given the Western Liang Army’s formidable strength.

He had sent twenty thousand troops, only to be defeated; were it not for the lucky stray arrow that killed Zhang Ji, he would have needed forty or fifty thousand men to destroy a mere ten thousand, at great cost.

Now, with the enemy forced to retreat, there was room for negotiation. If they could be brought to surrender and stationed at Wan City in Nanyang as a northern shield, it would indeed be a double benefit.

With this in mind, Liu Biao surveyed the room, “Since you all think accepting their surrender is best, whom should I send to negotiate?”

“Er…”

“Uh…”

“Hmm…”

The previously vocal officials fell silent.

Though Deng Hong and Kuai Liang had analyzed the situation and believed the leaderless Western Liang Army would be eager to surrender, no one could guarantee safety.

It was known that many who fled from Guanzhong survived by eating human flesh.

“When Dong Zhuo first died, there were still tens of thousands of households in the Three Adjuncts. Li Jue and others unleashed their troops to plunder, and famine ensued. Within two years, the people had eaten one another to near extinction.”

This was not only recorded in history, but widely known at the time.

Many civilians, soldiers, and even generals—such as Wang Zhong, later General of Light Cavalry under Cao Wei—had eaten human flesh in Guanzhong during this period.

Though perhaps an act of desperation, the brutality of the Western Liang Army inspired dread.

Most importantly, Zhang Ji had just died; if the army refused surrender and insisted on avenging him, the envoy sent to negotiate might…

In such circumstances, these provincial officials were naturally unwilling to risk their lives for a dangerous mission that might provoke the enemy.

Yet, amid the crowd, someone stood and said, “My lord, I am willing to go.”

All looked, surprised to see it was Deng Hong.

Deng Hong had married a daughter of the Cai clan last year, making him one of the most prominent rising powers in Jing Province.

With the backing of the foremost local gentry, his official career should have been secure, with no need to court danger.

Yet here he was, volunteering to enter the dragon’s lair, earning everyone’s admiration.

For a moment, his colleagues looked at him with respect.

No wonder he was advancing in rank—young men truly possessed a spirit of courage and enterprise.

Only Deng Hong glanced at Shen Chen, sitting at the end, his mouth twitching slightly.

He was simply forced into it, persuaded by his clever grandson, who promised absolute safety.

What a joke.

This was the Western Liang Army, notorious for devouring men without leaving bones.

Rumored to kill without blinking.

Though his grandson’s advice had never been wrong…

Still…

Still, was there ever such a thing as a grandson setting up his grandfather?

Seeing Deng Hong glance his way, Shen Chen immediately assumed a look of indifference, gazing elsewhere, as if he were merely enjoying the scenery.

“Excellent!” Liu Biao exclaimed joyfully, “Young Shuo, you are indeed a hero of Jing and Chu. Let it be you who negotiates with the Western Liang Army and accepts their surrender.”

Deng Hong could only reply bravely, “I will not let you down, my lord.”

“Good.” Liu Biao nodded with satisfaction. “If you require anything, speak quickly.”

Deng Hong thought for a moment and asked, “I would like to know my lord’s conditions for their surrender—will it suffice to grant them provisions and station them at Wan City?”

“Yes.”

“And if they have other requests?”

“What sort of requests?”

“To expand their army, or to ask for surrounding counties to be under their control.”

“Well…”

Liu Biao pondered briefly, then said, “We need them to defend the north; granting them adjacent cities is acceptable, but Zhangling and the areas around Xinye must remain under our control.”

“I understand.” Deng Hong nodded and saluted. “Then I will depart today for Champion Commandery to persuade the remnants of Zhang Ji’s army to surrender to my lord.”

Liu Biao, slightly surprised, asked, “So soon?”

Deng Hong replied, “The matter brooks no delay.”

“Excellent.” Liu Biao began to appreciate Deng Hong more.

He had previously thought Deng Hong owed everything to Shen Chen’s advice, but now, though Shen Chen was clearly the strategist behind him, the courage to risk his life alongside his grandson was genuine.

Perhaps this was why the Deng clan had been willing to listen to a child, leave their homeland, and settle in Jing Province so far away!