Chapter Forty: A Clear Path

Li Wenyuan sat atop his horse, carefully examining the mountain before him. Though it bore the name of a mountain, it was but a branch of the Dragon Ridge, impressive in stature yet lacking in vitality. Scattered trees dotted the slopes, none of them mature, having been transplanted in recent years as saplings, barely concealing the abruptness of the landscape.

Soon, figures appeared along the mountain path, stirring clouds of dust as the gates slowly opened. A large, orderly group poured forth, banners fluttering in the wind as they formed ranks.

Alone, Li Wenyuan watched from horseback as the opposing company assembled. A faint unease lingered in his heart, but with matters already at this stage, there was no retreat. He forced himself to abandon all other thoughts, drew a deep breath, straightened his posture, and fixed his gaze on the distant formation.

A man wearing a fur hat rode forward, halting before the ranks, raising an iron arrow in his hand. “You must be Li Wenyuan,” he called, “the owner of this arrow?”

Li Wenyuan removed his bow and waved it with a smile. “Would you like to see another?”

The fur-hatted man laughed heartily, urged his horse forward until he stood before Li Wenyuan, then handed him the iron arrow. “To have summoned this arrow—I am impressed,” he said. Noticing Li Wenyuan’s confusion, he continued, “Ah, forgive my oversight. I am Zong Rahu, leader of the roving bandits.”

Li Wenyuan sized up the man before him. He was robust and powerful, with no hint of villainy in his demeanor. He accepted the iron arrow and asked, “Leader Zong, I am on my way to take up post in Wuwei Commandery. Why did you send a message in the dead of night?”

“General Li,” Zong Rahu replied, “I heard you once marched your troops to Liaodong. Must I recount what you saw along the way?” When Li Wenyuan remained silent, Zong Rahu pressed on, “Within Jincheng, I was originally a foreman preparing to lead laborers eastward. Among them were some who had fled from the first eastern campaign; they told us of Liaodong’s horrors: plague, heaps of bones, and Yang Guang ordering that all laborers, sick or healthy, be doused in kerosene and burned in pits.”

His voice grew more fervent as he continued, not waiting for Li Wenyuan's reply. “That was when I raised the banner of rebellion, leading the laborers into outlawry. In the west, the authorities are weak, so we trekked here to rest in Azure Dragon Mountain. Lately, as we prepared provisions, the price of rice soared. The merchants hoarded grain for profit rather than sell it cheaply to the people, so I began robbing passing merchants, distributing half the loot, and using the rest to purchase necessities.”

Li Wenyuan asked, puzzled, “Then how did you learn that the magistrate coveted wealth, forced the people into the city, and seized all their gold and silver?”

Zong Rahu answered, “One of my men was buying supplies when the official troops swept him into the city and guarded him closely. He managed to escape and brought back word.”

“If that’s so, those villagers must still be held somewhere within the city. Tell me where they are kept, and I shall investigate,” Li Wenyuan said.

“My man said they were confined in the northwest refugee shelter,” Zong Rahu replied.

“Very well, I’ll send someone to look into it.” Li Wenyuan saluted and was about to depart, then remembered something and addressed Zong Rahu, “Leader Zong, this place holds no future for you. Take my iron arrow east to Jincheng, seek out Xue Ju, and join him. That’s a better path than being remembered as a mere bandit in the annals of history.”

Zong Rahu accepted the arrow and said, “I’ll accompany you to Yongdeng County. Once we've established the truth and proven our innocence, I will go to serve Lord Xue Ju.”

Returning to his ranks, Zong Rahu gave instructions for his absence, then joined Li Wenyuan on the journey to Yongdeng County. Li Wenyuan had Zong Rahu cover his face with black gauze, posing as a military police officer in his camp, and together they entered Yongdeng.

Arriving at the county office, they happened upon Zhang Juntao emerging. Li Wenyuan stopped him and asked, “Juntao, have you discovered anything?”

Zhang Juntao shook his head. “The magistrate says the villagers received relief grain and headed north to Wuwei Commandery.”

Zong Rahu declared, “That cannot be. Anyone traveling to Wuwei from here must pass through Azure Dragon Mountain, and no one has come by for over a month.”

Zhang Juntao glanced curiously at Zong Rahu, puzzled by his certainty. Li Wenyuan leaned in and whispered a few words to Zhang Juntao, whose face changed dramatically. “I was at that place today—there was no one there,” he said.

“Are you certain?” Li Wenyuan pressed.

“Absolutely. After entering the city, I investigated. Someone saw a large group of soldiers escorting the villagers into the refugee shelter, but after that, nothing. I heard this and went to check; there was no one, only a few soldiers patrolling. Locals did see the villagers taken in, but none leaving. Instead, around a hundred large carts have been coming out,” Zhang Juntao explained, sipping tea and relaxing after a busy morning.

“Large carts?” Li Wenyuan murmured, a sense of foreboding rising within him. Surely it wasn’t that infamous scene? He asked, “Where did the carts go?”

“They left the city and headed east,” Zhang Juntao replied.

Zong Rahu exclaimed, “To the east is the mass grave, where the bones of countless poor are buried!”

Li Wenyuan stiffened. “Could it be that those people were…”

The others caught the unsaid remainder of his sentence, their faces grave.

Seeing their expressions, Li Wenyuan said, “Leader Zong, will you return to camp with me? Tonight, let us investigate the mass grave together.”

Zong Rahu answered without hesitation, “Certainly. Those villagers once cared for us, and now, with their fate unknown, I must find out what happened.”

Li Wenyuan silently admired Zong Rahu’s courage. “Very well. Let’s split up and see whether any rumors emerge.”

The three parted, each investigating different leads. Li Wenyuan walked down the street when a galloping horse forced bystanders to scatter. A scholar nearby cursed, “This Li Mao grows ever more lawless, merely relying on his brother, the Arms Commander of Wuwei’s Eagle Hall.”

Li Wenyuan reflected for a moment; his memories had grown hazy with time, details slipping away. Yet he recalled that Li Mao was the younger brother of Li Gui, Arms Commander of Eagle Hall, who would later become King of the Western Regions.