Chapter 100: Establishing Authority

Ge Shuhan was already over fifty years old. His eyes, perpetually clouded as if from heavy drinking, gave him a perpetually drowsy look. Coupled with a face that differed markedly from the Han, anyone who saw him without his armor would have mistaken him for a destitute Turkic herdsman.

Yet now, atop a chestnut horse from the Qiang lands, Gaoyu appeared transformed. Clad in exquisite bird-scale armor, each plate gleaming with gold, and a tiger-skin mantle draped around his shoulders, those who recognized it knew it was taken from the dead Tibeto-Burman warrior Iron Blade Xinluo at the Battle of Shibao Fortress in the eighth year of the Tianbao era.

Behind him trailed a burly Han man bearing a long spear over his shoulder, keeping a steady distance of two paces—advancing to lead the charge, retreating to cover the rear, his eyes fixed only on their lord, dismissive of all else.

Following them was the imperial procession, bearing ceremonial arms in the hands of elite soldiers. These ritual instruments were exquisitely crafted, radiating majesty but devoid of any trace of martial ruthlessness.

At the sight of Gaoyu’s figure, all the sons of Longyou stood solemnly, staring unblinkingly at their commander. Only at this moment did he become the demon whispered of by the Tibeto-Burman people—the proud, self-assured military governor of the two garrisons.

Though over fifty, he still controlled his mount with ease, casually riding through the ranks as if on a leisurely stroll. Whether it was the cavalry of Tuyuhun tribesmen, Qiang, or Dangxiang horsemen, or the Han infantry, all greeted him with fervent cheers. He raised his arms high, prolonging their shouts, until the roar of tens of thousands seemed to boil the whole river valley, frightening the yellow antelopes and wild rabbits hiding in the grass into flight.

After some time, he halted before another formation, similarly mixed with Han and tribal soldiers but far less enthusiastic than the troops of Longyou. At their forefront, a group of officers stepped forward under the lead of a man, bowing with flawless courtesy.

“I am Li Guangbi, deputy military governor of Hexi, commanding five prefectures, eight armies, three defensive posts, and forty-one garrisons, seventy-three thousand five hundred troops. We respectfully welcome the great commander.”

The cheers gradually faded, leaving only the biting highland wind whipping the battle flags. Gaoyu scanned their ranks with a face as calm as still water, showing no trace of excitement.

After a while, hearing no further response, Li Guangbi glanced up. Gaoyu was scrutinizing him sideways and softly muttered, “What exactly did you just say?”

Was this a show of authority? Li Guangbi and the generals behind him stiffened, compelled to bow once more.

“We respectfully welcome the great commander,” they repeated.

“Deputy Li, you’re truly sparing with words,” Gaoyu said, gesturing to the man behind him. “Show them.”

The burly Han man said nothing, dismounted, and from a pack on his back retrieved a scroll, handing it to Li Guangbi.

Unrolling it, Li Guangbi found a silk document bearing the imperial edict, personally conferred by the emperor and countersigned by the chancellor, listing an array of lofty titles encompassing nearly all high-ranking officials of the Tang Dynasty—this was the official appointment of the man before them.

He was now the lord of both the Hexi and Longyou garrisons.

But… everyone already knew this. Li Guangbi remained puzzled, unsure what grievance was being raised.

Gaoyu snorted coldly. “You recited your names in full. Is this your first day in service?”

Only then did the officers awaken as from a dream, lining up once more. Under Li Guangbi’s lead, they bowed with fists clasped, the clinking of their armor plates ringing out sharply.

“I, Li Guangbi, deputy military governor of Hexi, along with all commanders of Hexi, have been ordered to respectfully welcome the grand protector, the Grand Master, the Commander-in-Chief, Acting Censor-in-Chief, Military Governor of Longyou and Hexi, Governor of Xiping and Wuwei, Commander of the military affairs of various prefectures, Duke of Liang, Great Commander Ge Shuhan.”

“Hah! You all can read, after all. I thought you’d be cutting your faces, treating the emperor’s edict like dirt.”

Li Guangbi and the others finally understood—they were being made to account for their past failings on behalf of the court. How could they dare resist? They all responded with “We dare not.”

“Don’t dare?” Gaoyu’s voice suddenly rose, carried by the wind to scatter far and wide.

“What the hell don’t you dare! Look at you—after following that An Huzi for so many years, you’ve lost all sense of who you are.”

Ignoring the officers, he spurred his horse forward, riding slowly along the ranks of Hexi soldiers.

“Hexi belongs to the great Tang, not that An Huzi’s Hexi.”

“If you’re not satisfied, I, Ge Shuhan, am standing right here. If you’re a man, come up and see if I can’t kill you! All you do is play dirty tricks. What kind of scoundrels are you? You’ve disgraced your commander Wang Zhongsi—I’m ashamed on your behalf!”

At the mention of Wang Zhongsi, even the most defiant lowered their heads. These men, along with former governor An Sishun, were all longtime subordinates of Wang Zhongsi. The damage was done; no one could blame Gaoyu’s harsh words.

“Quite the talent, huh? Afraid to fight the Tibeto-Burmans, only scheming against your own. Back in Longyou, men like you would have been killed long ago. Not satisfied? Then go fight the Tibeto-Burmans. If you want me to look at you with any respect, then damn well go.”

“Look ahead—that’s Shibao Fortress, built by our Longyou sons with fifty thousand corpses. Look behind—that’s Dafeichuan, where hundreds of thousands of Tang soldiers lie buried. What right do you have to stand here? What right do you have to be my subordinate?”

“They say Hexi breeds fierce soldiers, but all I see are cowards, bullied to the point they don’t dare even answer back.”

Gaoyu’s rebukes grew more vehement, heedless of the seventy thousand men before him. The officers who knew the full story bore it silently, but the rank-and-file could not help but respond with a sudden shout.

“We are not cowards! If Longyou can do it, so can we Hexi sons!”

“We are the Great Battle Army, the very troops you raised. When have we ever cowered before the Tibeto-Burmans?”

“Shut your mouth! If any son of ours takes a step back, then he’s no son of our fathers and mothers!”

Gaoyu pointed his whip at the loudest voice. “What’s your name, man?”

“Commander of Zhuting Garrison, Li Sheng.”

“From today on, you’ll be deputy commander of the Great Battle Army. Take the men who started with me and seize Hongji City and Damomen from the Tibeto-Burmans. Drive them out of the Nine Bends region. Do you dare?”

Without hesitation, Li Sheng clasped his fists in salute.

“What’s there not to dare?”

Spitting on the ground, he stamped his foot and shouted:

“The Great Battle Army fears no death! Follow me!”

Soon, a chaotic throng surged behind him. The remaining officers, mostly above the rank of garrison master, had inexplicably been stripped of command. None dared speak a word. This great commander Ge Shuhan was clearly establishing his authority.

Li Guangbi and the others looked on sympathetically at the two men beside them, filled with rage—these were the commanders of the Great Battle Army, and a single word from Ge Shuhan had made them scapegoats. To whom could they complain?

One had to admit, it was a brilliant move. At least the lower ranks had unwittingly come to remember this foul-mouthed leader.

It must be said: Ge Shuhan was no mere official arriving alone with a single imperial edict like Gao Xianzhi. He was the military governor of Longyou commanding seventy thousand troops!