Chapter 103: Malaria Outbreak |
After twenty-two consecutive days of assaulting the city, the corpses outside Shuofeng had already formed a sea.
All the towers had been pulled down at the cost of massive Qi casualties, and after clearing out the Yu forces outside the city, they'd been replaced with Qi soldiers who now had the ability to exchange fire with the defenders on the city walls.
That enormous moat couldn't be completely filled, but in front of the main northern gate, over a thousand sandbags had finally created a 'bridge.'
On the twenty-third day, the Qi army launched their second wave of fierce attacks.
Countless shield-bearing soldiers, forcing large numbers of Yu civilians along, pushed a massive siege engine. Before crossing the moat, they laid shields down like 'floor tiles' on top of the sandbags—for every shield laid, a dozen men died. Finally, through sheer human waves, they forcibly turned that uneven sandbag bridge into a path of shields.
The wooden wheels rolled over the iron shields, swaying and wobbling as they crossed the shield bridge...
"Hold the line! Hold the line!"
The soldiers on the walls frantically shot arrows at the approaching siege engine, hurled stones, poured molten metal, splashed oil, and set fires.
And yet, under the constant replacement of dying men pushing it forward, it crashed into the city gate with devastating force.
The city gate opened.
Then, countless cavalry and infantry poured in like a tide.
However, the moment they set foot in the barbican, soldiers sensed something wrong: "It's a trap! It's a trap!"
The ground was covered entirely in reeds and firewood, with a slippery feeling of oil poured over everything...
But it was useless—those behind kept pushing forward.
If those in front stopped, they'd immediately be trampled to death, blood flowing from all seven orifices.
In an instant, the barbican was packed with nearly a thousand men.
"Release!"
At Zhu Qing's command, a thick, heavy inner gate that had been suspended behind the cart gate had its ropes severed and crashed down with a "boom," crushing over a dozen men before completely sealing off the barbican.
The next moment, thousands of flaming arrows flew across.
The entire barbican erupted in crimson flames, like a living hell...
...
In the Qi army's main tent.
"The civilian laborers we brought have suffered around twenty thousand casualties, mostly Yu civilians. Our army's casualties number close to fifteen thousand," reported the staff officer tallying the wounded.
Every general beneath the tent looked utterly exhausted.
The casualties from assaulting Shuofeng for less than a month had already approached those from the two-month siege of Wuwei.
"Shuofeng has many defenders, ample provisions, and plenty of civilian laborers. Unlike Wuwei, there's no urgency, so we can only keep attacking forcefully. These casualties are relatively normal," Chen Xing said. "The key problem now is that Xiao Qun has mobilized."
He continued: "The false Yu reinforcements from the east and west flanks are just deterrent forces, mostly provincial troops without much strength. The greatest threat is still Xiao Qun from Jiamen Pass—he still commands three thousand Xiao family troops who are brave and loyal."
Unlike before, they couldn't besiege the point to strike reinforcements.
Now, having just occupied most of a commandery and crossed the river to attack Shuofeng, their battle line was stretched far too thin. Attempting to besiege the point to strike reinforcements would only result in the embarrassing outcome of failing to defeat the reinforcements while also failing to capture the position.
While everyone discussed this, Ji Yuan spoke: "Due east and west, there's a burned Wulei fortress and a county seat. The laborers have roughly cleared space to garrison fifteen hundred troops each. Zhou Mu, Huang Lin—take three months' worth of provisions and occupy those positions. No matter what happens, do not leave the city to engage in battle."
Hearing this, Zhou Mu asked with some concern: "Your Majesty, what if the Yu bandits bypass us to attack the main army?"
"They won't," Ji Yuan responded with certainty, then added an explanation: "Those ten-thousand-plus men are a feint to draw away troops. If they dare bypass you, I need only take the initiative to strike and we'll form a pincer attack from both sides."
The provincial troops' combat effectiveness and equipment were far too poor. Though there appeared to be ten thousand on each side, their fighting strength couldn't match Ji Yuan's three thousand men.
But Ji Yuan didn't want to deploy three thousand men to deal with them.
Fifteen hundred was the limit for deterrence while maintaining balance.
Using three thousand men to suppress twenty thousand Yu troops minimized the impact on the Shuofeng campaign as much as possible.
"No matter what taunts they shout, what openings they show, or even if they pretend to bypass you to attack us—don't move until I lead troops out to engage. Violate this order and face execution," Ji Yuan said emotionlessly.
"By your command, Your Majesty!"
The two accepted their orders.
"Your Majesty, upstream on the Chishui River, we've driven stakes to half-block the narrowest section. Luo Ting's water forces will need at least three days to clear the obstacle before they can continue downstream," Chen Xing reported.
"Good." Ji Yuan nodded. "Don't move those five hundred soldiers and the five thousand laborers supervising them. Continue watching the Chishui River. If Luo Ting clears the obstacle, stake another section downstream. We cannot let the water forces approach."
What Ji Yuan wanted now was to isolate things for a one-on-one fight with Song Shi'an.
But he would definitely face interference.
Like Luo Ting—even if he didn't actually move, he'd still send soldiers and laborers to clear obstacles.
One side driving stakes, the other removing them, back and forth endlessly. Until the war ended, they absolutely wouldn't stop, fiercely teasing at the Chishui River.
For both sides, it achieved its effect.
The water forces couldn't move.
Ji Yuan wasted over five thousand men tied up here.
But these were all minor skirmishes.
From Jiamen Pass to here, there were no natural barriers to defend, and it was a rare elite main force that the Yu army could mobilize.
"Mi Heng."
Ji Yuan looked toward a certain burly, robust general and said: "Xiao Qun has eight thousand men—a main force. I'm also giving you eight thousand men—the elite among my troops. However, there's one difference: he's a famous general."
Mi Heng clenched both fists, his eyes as fierce as a tiger's: "If I defeat him, this general will become a famous general."
"Good." Ji Yuan decisively added: "In all battles, there's no need to report back. Decide and act on your own."
"By your command, Your Majesty."
And so the arrangements for the three reinforcement routes were settled.
The forces Ji Yuan could use to attack Shuofeng became seventy-five thousand.
The civilian laborers he could deploy numbered less than ninety thousand.
Of course, Shuofeng had also taken losses.
Just then, a chief clerk suddenly entered from outside the tent, somewhat nervously saying: "Your Majesty... malaria has spread through the army."
Hearing this, everyone felt somewhat uneasy.
But no one was particularly alarmed.
Too normal.
In the height of summer in the seventh month, nearly three hundred thousand people had gathered here at Shuofeng.
One could say it numbered in the millions.
A battle for national destiny, in this season—how could it not be affected by some external forces?
Malaria had over ten thousand years of history and had claimed half of the ancient population.
The only question was the severity of the impact.
"How serious is it?" Ji Yuan asked calmly.
"Soldiers in the camps suffering from chills, high fever, and severe sweating already number over three hundred. The civilian laborers are countless," the chief clerk said.
"Spread out the camps, don't concentrate them. The entire army must boil water for drinking—no raw water or raw meat." Ji Yuan commanded without the slightest panic. "Build a central camp to the northwest with two thousand small tents. Send all soldiers who contract malaria there."
"What about the laborers?"
The chief clerk inquired.
Among the laborers, though most were Yu people, there were also quite a few Qi people.
Everyone looked toward Ji Yuan.
And he, still without excessive deliberation, said coldly: "Bury them."
...
In the barbican, this wave had burned nearly a thousand Qi soldiers to death.
But this stratagem could only be used once.
The inner and outer gates were now both sealed.
Covering their mouths and noses with hemp cloth, in the evening after the Qi army's offensive for the day had withdrawn, Song Shi'an stood on the city wall and called out loudly: "Bury them with earth, at least two chi above the corpses, packed down firmly. When working, watch out for mosquitoes—you must have torches. Anyone without mugwort packets, go get them. Absolutely don't let the mosquitoes bite you!"
Then Song Shi'an descended from the wall.
Walking through the streets, he said to the accompanying officials: "Everyone who contracts malaria must be sent to the military camp, county office, or prison. Isolate them by household units, separately. Keep drinking water decoction of sweet wormwood. Everyone else must wipe their bodies daily with water boiled with mugwort—don't expose any wounds or let blood scent out."
"Yes, laoye!"
"Laoye, the number of malaria cases has already approached a thousand..."
"I know, I know! Just follow my methods, hurry up and do it! Don't drag your feet, don't have your own ideas—listen to everything I say!" Song Shi'an said impatiently.
"Yes!"
And so he walked quickly along the road, inspecting and giving instructions all the way.
"Cough!" Suddenly, Song Shi'an began coughing.
San Gou's eyes went wide: "Laoye?"
Song Shi'an didn't speak, still covering his mouth and nose, coughing while continuing to arrange various matters.
Until he finally returned to his main tent: "San Gou, don't let anyone in. If there's business, report it from outside!"
...
"Soldier casualties number two thousand one hundred. Civilian casualties number four thousand seven hundred... and there are also a thousand malaria cases," Qin Kuo reported.
"We have malaria, and Ji Yuan has it too. Don't panic. Follow Shi'an's methods—listen to everything he says," Wei Wusheng instructed.
"Yes." Then Qin Kuo withdrew.
In the tent, Wei Wusheng, who had lost a full circle of weight, looked toward Xinyue at his side and said: "Shi'an—I haven't seen him in a long time."
"He says combating malaria is the top priority. He's delegated everything else to others. He's currently focused wholeheartedly on fighting the epidemic," Xinyue said.
And precisely because of this, Wei Wusheng showed a worried expression: "Go check on him."
"Yes."
Xinyue nodded in acknowledgment.
Then she left the tent.
Wei Wusheng had originally lived in the city tower as well, but Song Shi'an required that he sleep alone in a tent at night, with mugwort placed all around.
He too had been isolated this way.
Xinyue was the same.
According to Song Shi'an, this would prevent contracting malaria...
All along the way, she carefully avoided others until she finally reached Song Shi'an's tent.
Seeing her arrive, San Gou said somewhat shyly but with effort: "Laoye said no one may enter the tent. Whatever the matter, report from outside."
"I'm the exception."
Xinyue directly ignored him and lifted the tent flap.
The next instant, she froze.
Sitting on the bed, completely wrapped in blankets with a brazier burning before him, in this seventh-month heat Song Shi'an was shivering with chills, his body trembling ceaselessly.
She quickly lowered the tent flap and entered.
So he'd also contracted malaria!
Just then, someone outside suddenly reported: "Laoye, some soldiers are resisting contact with malaria patients, refusing to help transfer them..."
Forcing himself, Song Shi'an called out loudly: "Contact won't transmit it! Only mosquito bites will! Anyone who disobeys will be dealt with by military law!"
"Then... do we still deliver meals to those sick civilians?" Seeing Song Shi'an somewhat angry, the person asked cautiously.
Song Shi'an grew even angrier at this: "Who said not to deliver meals? If even one civilian dies of starvation, I want your head!"
"It, it was the grain officer who said so," he said tremblingly. "The grain will only last until winter. If we economize a bit... we could hold out a while longer."
"Who told him to economize on his own authority!" Song Shi'an cursed. "Once the snow falls, Ji Yuan will fuck off! If he doesn't fuck off, I'll give you my head!"
"Yes! No, I don't mean that! Laoye, that's not what I meant..."
"Get out!"
Furiously, he shouted the man away.
Watching him, Xinyue asked: "Malaria is only transmitted by mosquito bites?"
"Why else would malaria flourish as soon as summer arrives?" Song Shi'an retorted.
"Will sweet wormwood water decoction work? How do you know this?" Xinyue asked with some curiosity.
"I just know."
Being rebuffed like this, Xinyue looked into Song Shi'an's eyes, her voice unusually lowered: "Why are you so irritable?"
Song Shi'an also looked at her, paused for a moment, then averted his gaze: "Get out."
Having said this, he raised his trembling hand to reach for the kettle handle on the brazier.
A hand appeared before him.
It lifted the kettle and poured the sweet wormwood decoction into a ceramic bowl.
"I don't need you, I can do it myself..."
Song Shi'an tried to drive her away impatiently.
But Xinyue continued doing as she pleased. After pouring the sweet wormwood tea, she picked up the ceramic spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it before Song Shi'an.
Looking at her, Song Shi'an was full of bewilderment.
But her gaze didn't waver because of this expression that kept her at arm's length.
After sighing, Song Shi'an said: "Thanks, but don't stay here."
Xinyue said nothing. After blowing on the hot tea in the spoon several times, she once again insistently brought it to his lips.
Song Shi'an was out of options.
Frozen like a grandson in the height of summer, he opened his mouth.
And Xinyue fed the sweet wormwood tea into his mouth.
"It should be very hot."
Seeing him drink it so calmly, Xinyue reminded him.
"Right now... I feel like I'm in an ice cellar..." Song Shi'an said through chattering teeth.
"Will you die?"
Xinyue looked into his eyes and asked.
Many people who contracted malaria had died.
Though he seemed like some kind of monster, ultimately under such a natural disaster, he was still flesh and blood.
As Xinyue's spoon hovered before him, Song Shi'an spoke: "Can you say... 'Dalang, drink your medicine'?"
"Why?"
Xinyue didn't understand.
But Song Shi'an didn't speak, looking somewhat lifeless. So she opened her mouth emotionlessly: "Dalang, drink your medicine."
Song Shi'an drank it down.
"Much better..."