The Path of Li

Luo sighed.

"We need to harry up."

Zicheng was filled with anger. An empty village was no better than a village that had just been burned down: the smell of fear hung over everything, an elusive veil of hopelessness and imminent death. He grabbed his sword, but the old man held his hand.

"There's no one nearby," he grunted soothingly. "Only death and emptiness. We must search for survivors," the old man suddenly uttered. Li shook himself, throwing off the obsession with his last words and looked up at Luo Yang.

He continued to stroke his long moustache, thinking and finally, he said:

"Let's follow the footsteps of those who left the village. I think it will not be difficult for you: your army is chasing after cattle; they should be chasing after their people."

Li nodded. Indeed, he noticed the footsteps of the villagers immediately, as soon as he saw that the village was empty, and proceeded to inspect the area. Those tracks led to the spurs of the nearest mountains.

"What else do you think all this smells like, except death and desolation?" He muttered gloomily.

They came across the front pickets of the rebels the very next day. The sun was going down, and Li was already looking for a place to sleep when two men armed with pikes came out onto the trail. It took less than a second for Li to realise that he was not a trained man.

"Who are you?" One of the armed men cried out with a guttural voice. It was a tall, middle-aged man in shabby, patched-up clothes. He pointed his spike right at the old man. However, he hasn't received any reaction from Luo.

"We are peaceful travellers, good man," Luo's voice was filled with humility and obedience. Zicheng followed the example of his mentor and bowed to the second stranger, a young man of no more than seventeen, from whose eys you sense fear.

The older man broke the silence and said:

"Follow me."

Li shrugged his shoulders, exchanged glances with the old man, and stepped off the path. The young man followed, nearly touching Luo Yang's back with his long spear.

After a while, tired of the painful silence, the old man asked:

"And who would you be? What do you want from peaceful travellers?"

"How will you prove, strangers, that you are exactly what you seem to be?"

"Why do we need to prove you anything?" Zicheng chuckled. The man walking in front stopped abruptly and directed his pike exactly towards Li's heart.

In less than a second, Li grabbed the spike with his left hand and pulled men towards himself, landing a punch right to his jaw with his right hand.

Before the man had time to fall to the ground, his pike was in the hands of Zicheng, and its sting was looking in his direction. He froze, having fallen to the ground, staring at the tip of his weapon pointing right at his eye. Meanwhile, Luo turned to face the young man at the rear and calmly took the peak from his fear-bound hands.

"That's better," the wise man smiled as if apologising and patted the numb guy on the shoulder. Li put his pike aside and reached out his right hand to help him stand up. The man glared at him:

"I don't need pity from you! If you have taken me down, finish me!'

"I don't like to kill for no reason," Zicheng snapped,

"We are not here to fight you. We are all on the same side. Take me to your commander warrior," The peasant kneeled and shook his head in disbelief.

"This is not the time and place to drop down on your knees," he muttered, somewhat embarrassed by an unexpected situation, as he turned from a prisoner into a celestial with a blink of an eye. "You'd better get us to your leader as soon as possible. We want to talk to him.

"Yes, of course," the men rushed up and, nodding to his young partner and picking up the spear, headed into the forest, constantly looking back at the unusual companions. The young guard had already forgotten about his duties and walked alongside the famous wise man, bombarding him with a heap of questions like "how long have you been travelling?", or "which province did you like the most?'.

The older warrior, whose name was Tang, led them to the tent of the rebel leader Liu Hei, former tax collector-turned-Chief, who enjoyed the undoubted popularity among his associates. This could be seen even by the extremely respectful tone in which young Liang, the second guard from the lane, spoke about their leader. According to the rebels, Liu Hei collected taxes for a long time, being in the retinue of Xuan Ming, the head of Xian in Shaanxi province.

At the same time, Liu never went too far in dealing with ordinary people, and he was a strict but fair human being.

But over the years, collecting taxes has become increasingly difficult. The rulers demanded more and more, while time after time, nature threw new challenges o to the common man. Over time, when collecting tax became merely impossible, Xuan Ming was forced to resort to the help of the troops since several times his tax collectors were driven out of the villages by locals and even beaten up with sticks a couple of times.

Liu Hei found himself in an ambiguous position when he had to choose whether to continue serving faithfully to his master, the Emperor's henchman or to give up everything and go on the run.

Raised in a military settlement, Hei was the fifth son of his father, and therefore he was not drafted into the army. He was ready to be faithful to his vassal oath, but one day the village where he arrived with a small support detachment made up of governor's warriors was burnt down after one of the guards was hit by a stone thrown by a child.

Liu Hei witnessed the unarmed man being beaten, houses burned, woman raped, and children enslaved. Those who remained alive were tied up and driven into slavery, and the corpses of the rest were ordered by the commander to be burned along with the entire village.

Mindful of who would be the next victim of the imperial soldiers, Liu went to the nearest village and rose. He spoke to common men and begged them to leave. He told the truth of what will they face. He did not lack inspiration. The cries of the beaten people and the flames of burning houses were still fresh in his memory. People believed him, as this was said by Liu Hei. He had a spiritual aura around him, which made people follow him and listen to him. Even Li, has noticed it.

Having a great knowledge of military operations – Liu Hei began to gather his army from former herders and ploughmen, blacksmiths and potters. He took them to the training yard, forcing them to learn to resist the princely squads, trying to introduce the tactics of ambush war, knowing well that in an open field, his "army" would be nothing more than prey.

They might not be the best soldiers, but they were warriors. They were fighting for their lives, for their future. And freedom was their reward. Walking past dozens of tents and huts, where motley-dressed people were sitting around fires, cooking dinner, the travellers found themselves in front of a larger tent. Tang signalled to wait and disappeared inside.

Li glanced around and saw that everyone was staring at them.

He was not offended: his armour was supposed to have an irritating effect on the inhabitants of the camp. The guards were not treated very well here. At that moment, the curtain fell back, and Tang invited them inside. Li bent down and entered the low passage, habitually closing his eyes so as not to become blind from the bright outer light. Liu Hei greeted the guests. A pair of oil lamps burned on the sides. Even in the wild forest, the former tax collector could not give up his secular habits: ordinary men did not use interior lighting, as lamp oil was an unaffordable luxury.

At the sight of those who entered, the Chief of the rebels rose and bowed, casting a tenacious glance at the intruders. He pointed to the opposite seats while agile Liang hastily put bowls of rice and cups of rice wine in front of them. Li took a second to get accustomed to their surroundings.

Liu himself wore a faded robe, his hair militarily tied in a tight knot. He looked like a man in his thirties. Old Luo Yang didn't seem to pay attention to anything until silent Liu Hei said:

"I'm glad that fate has brought famous Luo Yang to my home."

"That's because we are now waling on the same paths," the old master smiled thinly. Liu also smiled.

"Yet we are here, and I have a lot of questions for you if you don't mind…"

"There is only one, and the main question: will I have so many answers? After all, I myself travel in search of the truth."

Liu nodded.

"We came across many burned-down villages along the way. Death is in the valleys, Chief. How are you going to fight it? With these several dozen unfortunates?"

Liu Hei frowned, then a clear sadness appeared on his face. "I don't know, wise man. I think about it every day and night. These people entrusted their destinies to me, and we don't care what happens to us; we only live for our children. Today our task is to save them. We'll think about the rest tomorrow if the sun rises."

"That's reasonable," Luo Yang muttered, overwhelmed by the inner strength that sounded in this simple phrase.

"What choice did they have?" The Chief of the rebels finished his thought, nodding towards the tent exit. Yang nodded.

"Of course, they had none. But you had. What prompted a former successful tax collector, a respected person, to leave a sedate existence and run through the forests?"

Liu Hei paused, rubbing his clean-shaven chin, stroking his thin moustache. Then he said in a simple tone:

"Probably, otherwise, my conscience would not allow me to live."

The old man nodded gravely.

"You will be given a tent; rest now. Tomorrow we will continue."

"Thank you, Master Liu, that's what we'll do," Li Zicheng stood up. Luo Yang followed him. The owner of the tent jumped to his feet with the obvious intention of accompanying them, but the wise man stopped him with a gesture.

"It is unworthy of a Chief to engage in the life of lonely travellers. Let young Liang accompany us. We became friends on the way."

"So be it," Liu Hei agreed and invited Liang, who happily accompanied the guests to their tent.

The next morning, they met again in the Chief's tent.

"Heaven sent you to me," the owner of the tent began with the traditional form of polite address. "In my case, this is not that much of an exaggeration. Yesterday you had a chance to note the tragedy of the situation. People entrusted their lives to me, I am responsible for them, but I am afraid they are not ready. I need your guidance?"

Leaving his empty cup aside, Luo Yang started smoking his pipe made from juniper wood. The smoke rose in circles, playing in the streaks of sunlight, penetrating through the holes in the tent canvas. It was impossible to see what exactly the old man was thinking about. Li, nor Liu dared to interfere with the thoughts of an old man.

Zicheng took a deep breath and said:

"At other times, I would say what you already know yourself very well: your "army" is doomed to defeat. But, in addition to simple arithmetic, which takes into account large numbers, equality and inequality, there is also fate and the talent of a commander… And luck… of course, if you believe in one."

"I do believe," Liu replied with a grin. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

"Then everything gets easier. You will not be able to withstand an open battle against the imperial army. But you can deliver short, pinpoint strikes to individual units, merely the same as governor sends people like you to collect taxes from the weakest villages. Catching a squad on a narrow path and destroying it will not be that difficult. Besides, there are mainly soldiers who are on foot, which means that the cavalry will not chase you. The governor will not notice the loss of one or even several units immediately. Commanders tend to ignore the weakest detachments.

It will take some time, a very considerable one if we are lucky, before the news of the incomprehensible disappearances reaches him, before someone starts moving, comparing the facts, wanting to know where exactly a particular detachment disappeared. This time will be sufficient for you to strengthen your squad as much as possible by distributing captured weapons to your men, training them to the best of your knowledge and their abilities.

With that, you will be able to withstand greater forces, especially if you are mobile.

You will not constantly stay in one place but will force the enemy to chase you. You will be able to divert the attention of the dignitaries from the squad, give them a break, the opportunity to plant and grow crops in good weather. And by then, everything might settle down by itself. However, in that other life, there will no longer be a place for you and your soldiers because they stood against the Emperor all the same."

Liu Hei shook his head.

"Spend the rest of our lives on the run?"

"Not necessarily," the old man interfered in the conversation. "Our Emperor is still very young – he barely turned seventeen. So far, he lives not by his mind but by the slander of the courtiers. He doesn't care about any particular province until it becomes a threat to his power like the Jurchens.

"I will help you, leader, prepare your fighters for open battle. Just promise me that you will avoid it until I tell you. You carry the Blood Debt to your soldiers, and to fulfil it, you have to go through a very difficult path. But I'll be there, I promise."

"Thank you!" Liu Hei jumped up and firmly shook hands with the wise man and the warrior. "When will we start training?"

"Right after breakfast," Luo Yang interjected grumpily. "Breakfast is sacred for both sages and warriors."

He winked at Liu Hei, got up and walked out of the tent, followed by two cheerful looks.

From that day on, from dawn to evening, Li Zicheng drove Liu Hei's army to a sweat. He forced soldiers to move granite blocks, crush the smooth river pebbles with their fingers to strengthen their grip. He showed the techniques of sword handling, using wooden sticks in the absence of such. And gradually, the former "mean" people began to feel like real fighters, at least on their own level. It was until the first real fight with the professional military. Li Zicheng and Liu Hei perfectly understood that, so they trained the troops with might and main for their own benefit.

Three-quarters of the moon passed when a messenger rushed into the camp with the news. Nearby scouts noticed a small detachment of the district governor. Liu Hei ordered to immediately prepare for the offensive…

The sun climbed to the zenith when foreman Chao Ding, known among the soldiers of the Mingzhou garrison as "Boar", led his fifteen soldiers to this village. The detachment stopped at the edge of the forest. For some reason, its commander decided to look around before setting foot on the only street of the village.

Over the last moon, his squad saw empty houses, ruined barns and the complete absence of the local population. In the end, he wasn't concerned whether the governor received his taxes or not. Yuji Jiangjun was responsible for it, so it was none of his business. They arrived, robbed, delivered taxes and reported. They also reported if they didn't deliver. The situation in the district was incomprehensible, and the first rule of a military leader was: beware if you don't understand the situation. However, either the midday sun was melting the foreman's brains, or the general blissful picture in the valley relaxed him. He missed the moment when the last year's dry grass, which had not yet had time to give place to the young greenery, suddenly flared in a strip for several lis, cutting off the way towards the village, and threatened to block the road to the South, along which they came to the valley.

Chao Ding looked around with a feverish glare. His warriors crowded behind him and eagerly awaited the order of their commander.

"Damn! To the hell with this village! It's time to get out of here!" The gallant foreman decided, but, as it turned out, someone had different plans. A red-hot arrow flew out from behind the acrid grey smoke of burning grass and pierced the throat of one of the fighters. He wheezed, grabbing it with both hands, releasing the sword from his hands, and began to fall on his side. No sooner had the Boar realised the danger of the situation than a the second arrow of the same kind knocked down the second warrior, breaking through the armour and getting stuck under his left shoulder blade.

The Boar whirled around and, drawing out his Dao sword, yelled with all the might of his throat polished with cheap beer:

"Cover-up…"

The remnants of a dozen rallied around their commander, but the soldiers did not see anything because of the veil of smoke. Their eyes were watering, many began to cough, but the small detachment still began to move towards the exit from the valley. Chao Din was already beginning to think that they would be able to escape under cover of a smoke veil created by unknown enemies, but at the moment when the saving edge of the forest was already close, men armed with peaks fell out of the nearby bushes and rushed to the remnants of the squad.

They used round shields made of willow and covered with leather. These home-made protective devices could only stop the first blow of a spear or sword, while the second one destroyed them completely. However, there was no need for a special firmness: the unknown repulsed the first blows and were already close to the soldiers. The shields flew to the side. The spears of Boar's warriors were useless, as several precious seconds were irretrievably lost. The homemade spears of the attackers pierced the leather armour easily. The governor's soldiers fell one by one, choking on blood, for the enemies did not know mercy: they cut the throats of those who were slightly wounded. In less than a couple of minutes, the Boar was left alone with a dozen spears aimed at his chest. The attackers looked at him with undisguised fury from under the wide-brimmed hats. The Boar sighed hoarsely and released the blade, falling on the roadside boulder with a melancholic clang. He knelt and folded his hands behind his head, indicating that he was giving up. He made no illusions about his future fate. Those whose families he had so persistently and diligently harassed finally got him. He couldn't hope for mercy…

The attackers made an opening in the ring they had formed, and a tall warrior, clean-shaven, wearing good armour, approached Chao Ding. "It's the leader," the Boar realised. Suddenly he recognised him. Somewhere in the depths of his soul, the thought of possible salvation arose.

"I know you. You are Liu Hei, the tax collector from Xianyang! Don't you recognise me, your old friend Chao?" The Boar tried to jump up, but immediately felt a spear butt between his shoulder blades and fell to his knees again.

Liu Hei looked at the foreman with unspeakable contempt. Yes, he recognized him. He saw him more than once in the eateries of Xianyang, the largest city in the province. He even remembered how they called him the Boar behind his back… But this man did not cause any emotions in him. He called out to Master Luo:

"Tell me, sage, what does this man deserve?"

"Anyone deserves to live," Luo Yang replied sadly as he walked up.

A spark of hope lit up in the Boar's soul. Liu Hei stared at the old man in surprise.

"He'll go away like that?"

"The dead are useless, and he can be of use," the sage said, perplexing everyone. The Boar and Liu stared at him with the same confusion. The old man sighed.

"Cut off both of his hands. If fate deems him worthy, he will have time to reach people before the sun rises, and they will help him. If he doesn't have time, the dry belt will split his skull like a blacksmith's hammer splits a nutshell. That would mean he had no chance…

The Boar howled in impotent rage as a man in the armour of a princely warrior was approaching him with a naked changdao in his hand.

"What use of him did you talk about, old man, when you persuaded me to let this bastard go?" Liu Hei inquired when the Boar disappeared into the forest thicket, howling in pain, both arms cut up to the shoulders, with wounds seared by fire and a rawhide belt on his head.

The wise old man nodded in the direction of the rebels, who were collecting the weapons of the governor's warriors, chatting merrily among themselves.

"You showed them your nobility by giving the defeated a chance," the old man said simply.

The old man turned and walked towards the forest towards the camp. The leader of the rebellious peasants was watching him in silence.

Capital. Forbidden City. The Purple Palace.

Zhu Youjian, the Great Huangdi of the Celestial Empire, the Emperor of the blessed country, was in slight confusion. He was just informed about a conspiracy among the dignitary eunuchs in the province of Sichuan to overthrow the imperial family. Most likely, these were only rumours and would remain rumours, but it was time to decide something about the eunuchs.

The tradition of placing these "sub-men" in leading positions in the provinces and in the palace was established centuries ago and pursued a completely understandable goal for the ruling dynasty: to prevent the hereditary succession of local authorities when positions passed from father to son. Not being particularly concerned about reforming administrative legislation, the Emperors of the old days took a simple path: they castrated all the confidants admitted to power unless they were members of the imperial family or someone from the "noble" families.

The problem arose immediately after the young Emperor ascended to the throne of the Celestial Empire. He accepted it after the untimely death of his elder brother, Emperor Zhu Yujiao, who did not bother with offsprings, and therefore, did not leave any sons. Being the fifth son of his father, Emperor Zhu Changlu, who had many children, and his third wife, Zhu Youjian could not even think about the throne in his childhood, and, probably, that is why his childhood memories were so vivid. No palace intrigues or undercover games with power at stake! All this became the fate of his older brothers. But, apparently, an external observation also brings results, sometimes more significant ones, than direct participation in the life of the palace.

Perhaps that is why, barely ascending the throne in the year 4324 of the Shan-Yin era, bearing the sacred name of Ding-Mao, he immediately ordered to execute Wei Zhongxian, the senior eunuch of the departed Emperor, the squabbler and intriguer and the favourite of the supreme Ruler Ke Shi, as the two practically ruled the Celestial Empire behind Huangdi's back. It wasn't easy for him, but he didn't grow up in an ivory tower. Since he was a child, he somehow understood that the right of the strong reigns in the palace. Moreover, his kind and faithful mentor, who seemed to be engaged in his upbringing and training from the first days of his life, considered such measures vital, though cruel.

The young Emperor accepted the country in a disgusting state: one crisis followed after another, as the weather seemed to take up arms against the Celestial Empire, as bad years repeated in succession. The Jurchens roamed in the North, and the Portuguese pirated in the South. Several provinces were constantly engulfed in flames of peasant rebels, which, however, were extinguished by his loyal generals for some time. Despite this, his army was still the strongest in the visible world and even its northern neighbours reckoned with it.

And still, he had to do something with the dominance of eunuchs in power… These reformers from the Dunlin party invited him to familiarise himself with their proposal for state reorganisation. He had to choose the time and deal with this. It was also time to think about a child… He couldn't leave the country without an heir. You can't leave such questions unattended… So, he should forget about the chambers full of concubines for a while and pay more attention to his Empress at night.

She has reproached him more than once lately for the fact that he has lost interest in her. Well, it's time to dissuade her. Imperceptibly, the Emperor went over to the window on the north side of the chambers. An amazing view of Jingshan, a beautiful mountain, opened before him. It stood out from the ridge that stretched North of the palace.