Chapter 26: Beating the Drums for the Advance

Jiu Chi had departed for Mount Taihang.

Liu Bei had instructed him to carry several wooden plaques as gifts. These plaques were the travel permits—known as *guosuo*—that Jiu Chi and his companions had been carrying, but they bore the names of other people. Before setting out, the county officials of Zhuo had prepared these for Liu Bei’s entourage. However, since Jiu Chi and his men were escaped convicts who had never officially registered their residency, Liu Bei had instead registered the names of the Taiping Dao followers who were cultivating land at Shili Pavilion.

As Liu Bei was heading to Luoyang to report his military merits, he naturally needed retainers and attendants. Yet, the people he intended to bring were Jiu Chi and his men. The issuance of travel permits was rigorous, requiring proof of residency as law-abiding citizens; one could not simply report fake names. Those Taiping Dao followers were registered in the county and were indeed farming on Liu Bei’s land, making them more suitable to be listed as his retainers. Besides, these permits did not include photographs.

For Jiu Chi and his men, these permits were of no consequence; if Liu Bei wished, he could provide them with a stack of them at any time, as the Taiping Dao followers had no use for them. But to the bandits of Mount Taihang, these permits were a valuable gift. Because they were travel permits issued by the commandery for passage from Zhuo to Luoyang, and the stated purpose of travel was "Escort for the Advance Guard"—this was essentially a military pass. In other words, holding these documents allowed for virtually unimpeded travel throughout the region north of the Yellow River. With enough audacity, one could even demand assistance from local official post stations.

...

It was already dusk when Liu Bei returned to the ferry crossing with his eight remaining men. Gongsun Zan had not yet returned, but most of the volunteers and servants had. The volunteers had searched downstream along the Zi River but failed to secure any boats. Consequently, they had to salvage the sunken wrecks upstream and repair them, which was still better than building rafts from scratch. Having already lost an entire day, Gongsun Zan’s volunteers discussed with Liu Bei their plan to work through the night to avoid the dangers of lingering in this desolate area. They intended to take all the servants to repair the boats, hoping to depart as soon as Gongsun Zan returned the next day.

Since Gongsun Zan’s men were handling the labor, there was no need for Liu Bei to engage in the heavy work of salvaging wrecks. The volunteers asked him to remain at the site to guard the supplies and await news of Gongsun Zan. If Gongsun Zan did not return by the following day, Liu Bei was prepared to swim across the river himself. The boats were necessary for the vast amount of supplies Gongsun Zan was transporting; Liu Bei himself was traveling light and could swim across if needed. However, most of his fierce subordinates had once been horse bandits from the northern frontier and were generally poor swimmers, so he preferred not to set off alone unless absolutely necessary.

With Gongsun Zan’s men heading upstream, Liu Bei moved the horses and other goods to the pier to facilitate boarding the next day. He also took the opportunity to settle the young women—the musicians recruited by Gongsun Zan. These performers were very young, mostly sixteen or seventeen, and quite beautiful, having been specifically selected as gifts.

They were registered musicians, meaning they belonged to a hereditary class of entertainers. The status of such families was quite low; although not slaves, they were not considered commoners, occupying a social standing similar to that of people with criminal records. Most of these musicians had been relegated to this status due to crimes committed by their families, and they were viewed as relatives of criminals, making them easy targets for discrimination and bullying. However, Liu Bei himself had a prior criminal record and possessed experience working in musical troupes, so he got along quite well with these performers.

As it was late, Liu Bei settled them into a large building near the pier where supplies were stacked, and he took up residence in the room next door to keep an eye on the horses behind the building. His eight fierce subordinates stayed at their previous campsite, about a hundred paces from the pier, guarding Gongsun Zan’s sentry post and banners. In truth, Liu Bei had no intention of becoming involved with the musicians; he merely wanted to prevent any trouble between his men and them.

Unexpectedly, trouble occurred regardless.

In the small hours of the morning, Liu Bei awoke from his sleep. He had always felt this place was dangerous and slept lightly. Hearing a vague sound, he grabbed his sword and went out to investigate. Just as he poked his head out, he sensed something coming toward him. Liu Bei reacted quickly and ducked; a *thwack* echoed as an arrow embedded itself in the door frame before falling limply to the ground. The shot lacked force, likely fired from a distance and not aimed precisely, but it gave Liu Bei a severe fright.

"Enemy attack!"

Liu Bei shouted, simultaneously rolling onto the ground and ducking behind a stack of hay outside the door. The sentry post had been staffed, yet not a single alarm had been raised? If Jiu Chi had been here, they would never have been ambushed; for all his small ears, they were far more acute than his own large ones... Liu Bei thought to himself as he peeked over the hayrick, his heart sinking.

Dozens of dark shadows were slowly closing in. They were currently positioned between the sentry post and the house where Liu Bei was staying—the area of empty buildings—effectively cutting him off from his men. They had spotted him, and two or three arrows were fired toward the hayrick, but they missed entirely, likely fired blindly at the sound. This did not mean the enemy was weak; on the contrary, it meant they were elite.

Before dawn, with a mist clinging to the river, Liu Bei could only see silhouettes, and the enemy likely could not see clearly either. Only new recruits would attempt to aim when visibility was low; truly well-trained troops would not care about individual kills, opting instead for rapid suppression fire in such conditions.

"Enemy attack!" Liu Bei roared again.

His men responded, but they were a hundred paces away, cut off by the invaders, and could only answer from afar without any hope of joining him. The musicians in the room next door cracked their door open, but they remained silent, knowing Liu Bei was nearby. Liu Bei’s shouting drew more arrows, as did the voices of his men. The enemy seemed to conclude that there were more people shouting on the other side, and most of them turned toward the sentry post.

Liu Bei remained silent, huddled tightly behind the hayrick.

"Search the buildings..." The enemy outside made little noise, only the faint sound of orders being issued. There were no battle cries, only the sound of footsteps. The steps were not rapid, suggesting a moderate number of men, and they were proceeding with great caution, clearly aware that they could not be sure which of the many empty buildings held their targets.

Liu Bei tightened his grip on his sword and stole a glance at the flagpole at the sentry post. The banner of Gongsun, the Magistrate of Zhuo, which Gongsun Zan’s men had set up the day before, was still hanging there. The enemy was very close to the post and must have seen the flag. Knowing this was Gongsun Zan’s camp and attacking nonetheless, and doing so in the dead of night when men were most exhausted... who were these enemies targeting?

There was no time to dwell on it. Taking advantage of the fact that most of the enemy had turned to investigate the other direction, Liu Bei lunged from the hayrick back toward the wall. Using the cover of the buildings, he ducked into the musicians' room. The girls were all covering their mouths, their eyes filled with panic, but they remained silent as Liu Bei rushed in; these performers had dealt with enough hardship from a young age to know how to keep quiet.

"Ladies, take out the drums... you know how to play them, don't you?" Liu Bei rummaged through the supplies and dragged out their gongs and drums.

"We do..." The women picked up the drums, looking at him timidly. "Sir?"

"Do you know the battle rhythm? Three beats per breath—the advance march!" Liu Bei commanded urgently.

Three beats per breath was the rhythm for a rapid advance, used to signal a charge.