Chapter Thirty-Four: Trapped
Cloud City was not particularly large; within its walls, only two main streets crossed in a cruciform. The north-south avenue held the Yong'an Prefecture garrison, the county magistrate’s office, the granary, the warehouse, the City God’s temple, and all the necessary buildings of a military town.
Yet now, the Cloud County magistrate had feigned illness and returned to the Shanyang prefectural seat, leaving both military and civil affairs within Cloud City to be decided solely by Liu Wuzhou’s command.
The east-west street, meanwhile, was lined with dwellings, taverns, carriage inns, and even a few humble brothels catering to the townsfolk.
On ordinary days, Cloud City’s market could hardly be called bustling; everywhere was dusty and drab. The so-called taverns served only home-brewed spirits, and meat was sold but once every few days. Soldiers, seeking respite, would buy what little alcohol they could afford—thin, sediment-laden brews, consumed alongside pickled vegetables and eggs. The carriage inns catered only to those daring merchants who ventured deep into the grasslands, counting every coin, sleeping in communal bunks, bringing their own provisions, and paying merely for lodging and a bit of firewood. These inns were permeated with the pungent odor of unwashed bodies.
As for the brothels, their business depended on the soldiers of Yong'an Prefecture. With the mounting pressure from the Turks and the grain supply cut off by Mayi Prefecture, the soldiers came less and less frequently, leaving the brothels deserted. For months, only a few large teapots basked lazily in the sun at their doors, picking at lice.
This military town, beset by the growing force of Wang Renqiong, increasingly fell into disrepair and desolation—though it had never been prosperous to begin with. The people and soldiers of Cloud City endured only because they believed Liu Wuzhou would find a way through, steadfastly suffering together.
But with the arrival of the autumn fair, Cloud City suddenly sprang to life. The garrison troops, drawn back from their posts, patrolled with heightened vigilance. On the east-west street, every tavern was packed; the proprietors had slaughtered dozens of sheep in anticipation, and now every table was crowded with guests. The wine remained thin, but the dishes were tenfold more abundant than before. Visiting merchants grumbled about the fare but nevertheless ate and drank with abandon.
The carriage inns, too, overflowed with people. The merchant leaders rented clean homes for themselves, while their guards, drivers, and handlers crowded into the inns. After last year’s devastation by the Turks, the autumn fair had been suspended; now, with its reopening, business was expected to be brisk, and wages for the guards and handlers had increased considerably. With more money in their hands, these frontier men spent freely, buying meat and drink, gathering in circles on the communal bunks, passing cups and making merry late into the night. The innkeepers, counting their coins, could not help but grin ear to ear.
The brothels, once empty, now saw the return of their scattered workers, and many frontier courtesans arrived to ply their trade during the fair. A rare scent of perfume drifted through Cloud City.
These brothels were nothing grand—merely ordinary street-front houses. Standing at their doors, one could hear suspicious sounds from within. The frontier men gathered outside, blood running hot as they listened. Among them were anxious young lads, brought out for their first taste of adult pleasures, faces tense and nervous. Whenever the sounds inside grew louder, they became the object of much ridicule; some seemed ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
This city, battered by war and steadfast in the northern lands, had endured countless hardships, but now, laughter could be heard everywhere.
Even the men of Yong'an Prefecture placed great hopes in this autumn fair.
Since last year’s conflict, Yong'an had suffered shortages of both pay and provisions. Now, with Wang Renqiong and Liu Wuzhou at odds, the grain supply to Wang Renqiong continued, but not a coin in military pay was sent.
At present, the garrison consisted entirely of regular troops. As regulars, pay was essential; crafting arms, acquiring mounts, and tending to the wounded—all required funds. Liu Wuzhou’s charisma kept the soldiers steadfast for now, but if these lean days continued, who could say what might happen?
Even the tenuous provision supply was a looming threat. Cloud Prefecture had always been short on grain; after last year’s Turkish invasion, the countryside was nearly stripped bare, though the townsfolk had managed to flee to Cloud City. The people now relied on allocations from Shanyang to survive this famine year, so long as Wang Renqiong maintained his nominal post as Grand Administrator of Mayi Prefecture.
Liu Wuzhou had added a bit of subterfuge, and the people of Cloud City tightened their belts, scraping by. But if Wang Renqiong were to cut off the supply, they might endure without pay for a time, but without grain, hunger would brook no argument.
Thus, all hopes for getting through this crisis rested on the autumn fair. During these seven days, the merchant caravans bearing noble family insignias could hardly be taxed, but the nine Tatar clans of the grasslands offered ample opportunity. Whatever goods were collected could be turned instantly into cash and grain.
With enough resources on hand, perhaps they could survive the winter. As for next year—who knew what changes might come to the great Sui empire?
Xu Le and his companions, after their lively escapade, provided Cloud City with much to talk about, making Xu Le’s name known among the townsfolk. But now, they threw themselves wholeheartedly into preparations for the autumn fair.
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On the bustling east-west avenue, a group leading their horses cast searching glances about.
They were dust-laden and travel-worn, cloaked in shabby mantles, bearing bows and weapons, hoods pulled low. Such attire was common in Cloud City, for those journeying the frontier dressed this way. Though they carried no goods—a rarity—who could say if these men had a pouch of gold dust at their belts? After the fair, perhaps they would drive hundreds of horses south, laden with furs.
Besides, the city was filled with the garrison troops; a group of seven or eight posed no threat, for any trouble could be swiftly quelled. And even without the garrison, every frontier man could ride and shoot—without tens of thousands of Turkic wolf riders, no one dared look down on Cloud City.
These seven or eight concealed figures were Xu Le’s group.
After the commotion at the city gate, entering directly would have drawn too much attention. Yuchi Gong escorted them on a circuit outside the walls; once the crowds dispersed, he brought them in through another gate.
None of Xu Le’s party wished to enter grandly. Having slain a squad of garrison troops and escaped unscathed was luck unlikely to repeat. To swagger through the city, inviting cheers and acclaim, would be sheer folly.
Yuchi Gong left them at the street corner, clasped his hands in farewell, and promised to seek out Xu Le another day.
Yuchi Gong, carefree as ever, considered his duty fulfilled by settling Xu Le’s group, giving no thought to how he might find Xu Le again. Perhaps, for such a bold general, the world was a place of endless encounters.
Xu Le and his companions now faced a major problem.
None of them had a single coin; their goods were still in Yuan Junwei’s hands. They had some dry rations, but where could they find lodging?
They circled the east-west avenue, with Song Bao and the others scanning for familiar faces, hoping for a stroke of luck. Yet, having used up all their fortune escaping Yuan Junwei, not a single acquaintance appeared.
Having fled for their lives, fought at the city gate, and marched without rest, everyone—from the young heroes to the villagers—was bone-weary. Their gazes unconsciously turned to Xu Le.
Even Song Bao, at this moment, looked to Xu Le for guidance, waiting for him to produce a solution.
What now? Should they simply turn back, relying on their rations and perhaps some hunting to make it home to Shenwu County, as if the journey had been for nothing? Could they really wait for Liu Wuzhou to return their goods? And who knew when that might happen—perhaps they would be begging for food in Cloud City by then!
To go now and demand their goods at Liu Wuzhou’s office would be suicide.
As the others looked to him, Xu Le, head lowered and trying to remain inconspicuous, was inwardly troubled. Food was needed daily, shelter nightly, and capital to do business—these were matters that even his courage and wit could not resolve.
Was he to slink home in defeat, losing the hard-earned wealth that the Xu family had scraped together? How could he face his grandfather, or the villagers of the Xu clan?
Even the heroic Xu Le found himself anxious; the reputation he had just forged now seemed impossible to convert into tangible aid. Everyone’s hopeful eyes were fixed on him, making the usually resourceful Xu Le scan the street, as if hoping for a miracle.
At that moment, Xu Le could not help but blame Yuchi Gong—if only the bold general had shown a bit more consideration! He wanted a sparring partner? Fine, let him provide food for a while, and Xu Le would oblige!
Suddenly, Xu Le’s eyes brightened. He seemed to have found his savior!