Chapter 2497: Burning the Tower (10)

Yun Ting slowly extended his right hand and raised his index finger. "First, do not engage them head-on. Attack only from the flanks and avoid their sharp edge. The key is to delay, not to fight. Delay to await changes, gradually eroding their momentum. If we can hold out until the Imperial Court's army arrives, there is hope."

He extended his middle finger. "Second, obstruct their government orders. Make the heavy hand of the pseudo-dynasty difficult to impose in the countryside. Ambush and kill stranded pseudo-officials and unruly people who've defected to the Kun. Select one or two die-hard converts to the Fake Kun and slaughter their entire families as a warning. Create fear in the villages so that commoners dare not serve as Kun officials or speak of Kun affairs. Create chaos so that their authority cannot be established, grain cannot be collected, and laws cannot be enforced."

He raised his ring finger. "Third, have the heroes of the various mountains harass traffic, intercept travelers and merchants, block roads, and ruin their public security. To maintain order, the Kun thieves will be forced to set up many checkpoints, spreading their troops thin. Over time, they'll inevitably be unable to attend to everything. The Kun people place great importance on commerce and manufacturing. If we find opportunities to commit arson—burning down the Kun thieves' newly established workshops, freight yards, warehouses, and shops in the Guangzhou area—disrupting their business and manufacturing, it will surely increase their troubles and throw their pace into disorder."

He held up his little finger. "Fourth, wherever the Kun people go, they recruit many local braves. But these township soldiers have neither Kun guns nor armor, only swords and spears. Moreover, there are few scholars in the Kun thieves' tent, and very few are appointed as pseudo-officials or clerks. They're forced to use local gentry and clan elders to govern people on their behalf. These township soldiers are uneven in quality, and there's no lack of loyal and righteous men whose hearts turn to the Imperial Court. Persuade them to surrender, strike when they're unprepared, gather heroes, coordinate from within and without, capture one or two village or township offices, seize guns and grain. It will surely shock the Kun thieves and greatly boost morale. However, this is extremely difficult and should not be undertaken lightly."

After catching his breath, Yun Ting continued: "On ordinary days, rely heavily on local powerful families and seek shelter and cover from relatives in the charts and lis. Circle and maneuver with the Kun thieves. If secrets leak and you encounter fierce suppression, unable to find a foothold, then pull up your troops and retreat to Bagui, entrench in the borderlands, hide in the mountains, and seek opportunities for chaos and harassment. Wait for the grand army to arrive, then act as vanguard. Only then can we make a comeback."

Wooden Stone Daoist said, "These are all strategies of scratching the surface; they cannot shake their foundation."

Yun Ting snorted coldly. "Planning is one thing, but executing even one or two parts is already not easy. One must not be insatiable. The Kun thieves possess two prefectures; their soldiers are elite and grain abundant. How can you or I shake them overnight? As for Governor-General Xiong, whom you mentioned—his head is still on his shoulders, which shows the Imperial Court currently has no intention of dealing with the Kun thieves."

Wooden Stone Daoist pondered for a moment. "Hmm, that makes sense. Let's leave this aside for now. What about the alliance..."

Yun Ting said: "It's largely settled. I've already contacted Xue Tu; he'll come to meet us tomorrow. You've seen this person twice before. He's short-sighted, uncouth, and greedy. He can only be used and coerced, not allowed to lead. When the time comes, you must keep your wits steady, lure him into the trap, and not be swayed by him. However, this person is very loyal to his friends and isn't afraid of charging and fighting. He has considerable reputation in the jianghu. With several large clans supporting him, he obtained this title of Marshal of the Heaven Gate. At his peak, he could pull together five to seven thousand men. Now that the Kun people are powerful and suppressing the large households and Daoist sects, even after removing the hangers-on, he still has two or three thousand followers. Currently, he's being squeezed hard and is having a very difficult time. To protect himself, he'll struggle. Recruiting him with the promise of heavy profits won't be difficult."

Wooden Stone Daoist nodded slightly. "This poor Daoist understands. Last time, I already promised Xue Tu a substantive appointment as guerrilla general. Seeing how happy he was, scratching his ears and cheeks—and judging from his probing words—he's a man without guile."

Yun Ting frowned. "Can you fulfill his wish?"

Wooden Stone Daoist sneered: "Hehe, once the punt pole leaves the shore, it'll be out of his hands. What difference does it make whether it's true or false?"

He paused, then added: "Brother Yun, let's plan in detail again. Think it over carefully and let no slip-ups occur."

Distant mountains, dense forests, hillocks, strange rocks. Wisps of moonlight penetrated dark clouds, illuminating the hazy wilderness. Tree branches swayed gently in the mountain breeze, leaves rustling softly. Tree shadows on the mountain walls flickered like ghostly figures. A single bean of ghost fire in a deep mountain temple cast two black shadows whispering on the window paper—like murmurs from hell.

A small boat swayed and wound its way along the river channel. Three people sat inside the boat's canopy. Xu Tong and Li Baiqing leaned back with their eyes covered by black cloth. A large man sat upright, staring intently at the two. Xu Tong leaned diagonally against the canopy wall, his body swaying gently with the boat's undulations, appearing to doze. Secretly, he was sensing and distinguishing the speed, tilt, and bumps of the skiff, capturing every minute sound and special characteristic of the environment along the way. He silently counted to record time. He crossed his arms seemingly casually over his chest, his left robe sleeve covering his right hand. His right hand was inserted diagonally into his bosom, clutching a short pencil stub in his palm inside his inner garment. Whenever the vessel tilted left, he drew a line from top to bottom on the inner side of his collar; if it turned right, he drew on the outer side. At every turn, he noted the silently counted numbers on his inner garment using shorthand symbols in sequence. In situations where he couldn't record directly, Xu Tong used this as a supplementary reference for memory. Based on this, he roughly estimated the mileage and time of each turn, hoping to infer the destination by comparing with a map afterward.

He had practiced this method many times before, achieving at least sixty to seventy percent accuracy. However, in the past it was always on land—by carriage or sedan chair. This was his first time by boat. Compared to carriage or sedan chair, controlling direction on a boat was more difficult. This was merely a makeshift measure.

The meeting place was far from the city. The two had rented a house nearby the previous day and stayed half the night. Before dawn, they came to wait. After boarding, they traveled for a long time before the boat finally slowed to a stop. The boatman removed the black cloth from their eyes. Opening them, they saw themselves in a vast mangrove forest.

Abandoning the boat to go ashore, they found a small path in the woods. Guided by a handler, they walked straight forward. The two couldn't distinguish east from west, south from north, and simply followed all the way.

Along the road, other people joined from time to time, all on foot. Obviously this place was inaccessible to carriages and horses; everyone had to rely on boats. Xu Tong was secretly worried. Since ancient times, waterways had been the most complex and changeable, especially in such large areas of swamps and sandbars. The thirty-six heroes of Liangshan in the Song Dynasty had gathered at Liangshan Marsh for decades while government troops remained helpless. In reality, Liangshan had no dangerous terrain—it relied entirely on the eight hundred li of water to shield it from the government.

These people were probably the leaders of the various societies. Xu Tong cast an inquiring gaze at Li Baiqing, who only nodded slightly. After walking further, the road grew more complex. Sometimes they had to push aside bushes, sometimes cross streams on temporarily laid planks. The surroundings were either woods or reed marshes; even the sky couldn't be seen. Bright and hidden sentry posts appeared and disappeared along the way, heavily guarded. It wasn't until near noon that they arrived at a temple in a clearing.

Xu Tong was secretly alarmed. Small boats rowed slowly. Though the journey seemed long, this place was probably only fifteen to twenty kilometers from Guangzhou city. Coming out of the West Gate, the bandit nest was at most forty li away. And this den lay hidden deep among the sandbars and mangroves. Without a guide, even if a large army were deployed to drag a net, they would never dream of easily searching it out. No wonder this group gathered here so openly and fearlessly.

The temple courtyard occupied considerable ground, though the layout wasn't very large. It was said that when the temple was built, lacking large timber for beams, iron sheets had been wrapped around the spliced main beams—hence the name Iron Beam Temple. The halls and houses were all built on stone foundations, with earthen walls on the outside and wooden halls inside. The layout consisted of two entries: the front was the mountain gate courtyard, the middle the Buddha hall, and the rear the abbot's room, kitchen, and lay Buddhist quarters. Most had now collapsed. The mountain gate had long been dilapidated, and the plaque was nowhere to be found. Inside the hall lay an incense tripod missing legs and handles. The main hall enshrined a wooden Buddha statue, but the painted colors had long faded and the gold plating had peeled away. Two standing statues of bhikshus flanked the Buddha. The side halls on both sides were lined with more than twenty bodhisattvas of various sizes and shapes—tall and short, fat and thin. Due to years of neglect, they had all rotted, their faces indistinguishable.

Several minions welcomed guests at the mountain gate. After inspecting official invitations, someone led them in. In the courtyard, dozens of long tables and folding chairs were arranged in two rows. Many people had already taken their seats. Minions came forward to serve tea and offer tobacco. A round-backed armchair stood in the center. Behind it was an incense table with a shrine enshrining the Daoist Heavenly Emperor, inscribed "Haotian Jinque Yuhuang Xuanqiong Gao Shangdi"—The Great High God of the Jade Emperor of the Golden Palace of the Vast Heaven. Three incense burners and four plates sat before the table. The three burners each honored the three talents of Heaven, Earth, and Man, with three sticks of high incense in each. The four offering plates held whole meat offerings of pig, cow, sheep, and chicken, signifying that the disciples of the Heavenly Emperor who rule all realms do not abstain from meat.

Tables and chairs in the courtyard were arranged by rank. A minion led Li Baiqing and Xu Tong to the very last table, chanting loudly: "Li Baiqing, a master disciple of Old Li Village, brings his nephew Li Jian. Arrived. Take seats according to rank." After settling them, he served tobacco, tea, and fruits before withdrawing. Before long, both rows of seats were gradually filled. Besides forty or fifty sect leaders, including disciples and gatekeepers, there were well over a hundred people. Everyone looked strange and grotesque. Some talked loudly, others whispered. Everyone harbored different thoughts, their eyes flickering, looking around constantly. The courtyard was noisy and chaotic.

What concerned everyone most were the hardwood boxes piled under the corridors on left and right, guarded by more than ten minions. The boxes and lids were reinforced with iron hoops and secured with large padlocks. Could it be that inside were...

Stories about Generalissimo Xue obtaining a large sum of silver had long circulated among the sect leaders. Some said a certain Daoist priest had "turned stone into gold"; others claimed he'd dug up military pay buried by Governor-General Xiong. But Xue Tu remained noncommittal, appearing even more mysterious.

Before they could speculate much, a crisp whip cracked, and the courtyard instantly fell silent. Then a drum sounded, and a minion holding a large wooden command token appeared, chanting: "Heaven Gate roll call, everyone listen to the order." Hearing this, the attendees stood up in unison, causing a clatter of tables and chairs. After everyone stood firm, the minion chanted:

"Driving a cart requires the sunny open road, Sailing a boat requires a flat sea. ... The auspicious day has long been selected, Heaven Gate opens wide to call the roll. The auspicious time has arrived. Open Heaven Gate. Flag and card officers, hold the flags."

After the roll call song was sung, cymbals and bo clashed in unison, and another muffled drum beat sounded. A big man carried out a large green bamboo banner with five large characters: Heaven Gate Daoist Spirit Society.

After a brief pause, the minion chanted loudly again: "The Marshal ascends the seat."

(End of Chapter)