Southward migration

Father, are you planning to go to Southern Yunnan? That is a place of exile...

Zheng Ting still could not believe his father's choice; he had never been optimistic about that brother-in-law tucked away in the Southwest.

A place of exile? Ting'er, you pay too little attention to the Southwest. In my opinion, the mandate of heaven now lies in the Southwest.

Song Jinglian agreed with his old friend's assessment.

I also feel that Yao'er's husband has a very promising future. It just so happens that I have never been to Southern Yunnan, and I hear the scenery at Diannan Marsh is quite beautiful.

Song Yehong stared at his father with wide eyes, clearly hearing of his father's plans for the first time.

Song Jinglian looked at his surprised son and asked, "Yehong, do you know why, no matter how dynasties change, our Powerful Families families always remain standing?"

I believe it is because our Powerful Families families can support one another and stand together.

Zheng Ting also took the opportunity to add his own point of view.

I, your nephew, believe that since most of the scholars in the world come from our Powerful Families families, whoever sits on the throne must rely on us to govern the world.

The two old foxes laughed, shaking their heads while stroking their beards, until Zheng Ji finally revealed the answer.

These are all important, but the most important thing is not to put all your eggs in one basket.

Zheng Ting and Song Yehong looked at each other and then both fell into silence.

They began to recall the roles their ancestors had played in every period that required a choice.

The two were astonished to find that everything was, in fact, that simple—whether it was dynastic succession or a struggle for the throne between imperial princes.

Their Powerful Families families never placed bets on only one side.

When warlords fought for supremacy, one branch would support one side, while the cadet branch would support the other.

Sometimes, even the main branch would split to support different factions.

And once a situation of imperial princes vying for the throne arose in any dynasty, this attribute of their Powerful Families families would be activated once again.

By placing bets on two, or even three or four sides, no matter who won in the end, their family would always emerge as a winner.

The two men finally understood their fathers' choice, and they stood up together.

Thank you for your guidance, Father.

Alright, alright, sit down.

Zheng Ji waved his hand to signal them to sit, then turned his gaze back to the map.

Do you both think we should send people to Shandong, Hebei, and the Guanzhong?

We should, but I think we ought to send them secretly; otherwise, it will inevitably arouse the suspicion of the imperial court.

I feel the same way.

The two old men were clearly satisfied with their response.

Since that is the case, you two can decide who goes to Hebei, who goes to Shandong, and who will accompany me to the Southwest. By the way, no matter which branch you send, do not be lax with the etiquette, or you will not be able to stand firm.

Understood!

A similar scene was playing out in most of the families in Luoyang.

The only difference from the Song and Zheng families was that very few families were prepared to send people to Southern Yunnan.

In their view, Southern Yunnan was a frontier Guanzhong, a place of exile for barbarians, and could never amount to anything.

Because news channels were blocked by war, coupled with their inherent biases, they viewed Gao Yuan as little more than a Local Chieftain.

Zheng Ting and Song Yehong had thought the same until they received secret reports from their families on the road south and were completely stunned.

This... Brother Zheng Ting, our brother-in-law is truly remarkable...

Indeed, who could have imagined that he already possessed such strength.

The secret letter Zheng Ting had put down clearly stated: Over fifty prefectures, a population of 1.8 million households, nearly nine million people.

Under his command were countless elite soldiers and capable generals, nearly one hundred thousand armored troops, and figures who shook the Guanzhong like Liu Rengui and Xia Luqi.

Such a scale of power might not even be matched by the fertile and prosperous lands of the Central Plains.

It was precisely because of this intelligence that the two men deliberately placed more bets on Gao Yuan when allocating personnel.

However, these people were not heavily used by Gao Yuan later on, and most ended up becoming teachers—but that is a story for another time.

On November 30th of the sixth year of the Daye era, the gates of Luoyang slowly opened, and a team of well-equipped Cavalry charged out first.

Following closely behind was a team of brilliantly dressed and ornate figures; those who recognized them knew this was the Emperor's personal guard—the Qianniu Guard.

The Qianniu Guard surrounded large, ornate carriages as they moved forward cautiously.

Behind the procession were the carriages of numerous high-ranking officials protected by the army.

As for the common people at the very back, those from merchant families might have had some ox carts or donkey carts, but the ordinary commoners could only follow on foot.

There were others who were unwilling to leave their homeland, or who were old and frail, and could only remain in the empty city of Luoyang to struggle through their days.

A few days later, as the large column entered the territory of Deng Prefecture, the Qian Army stationed at Hongnong began to withdraw in an orderly fashion.

Subsequently, the Southern Palace Imperial Guard from Hedong Region, Shandong, and Hebei also began to move south, preparing to retreat to the south of the Yangtze River.

From then on, for the Great Qian, the line from Xiangzhou to Huangzhou and Luzhou would be their northern frontier.

And the reinforcements that Mao Biao had been desperately waiting for finally arrived in December.

Over eight thousand Cavalry from the Left and Right Valiant Cavalry Guard moved south after completing their rearguard mission, arriving at Hengzhou.

At this moment, Feng Pu, who had just recruited several thousand young men to the front line, was unaware of this change.

He was still dreaming of breaking through Hengzhou, crushing Mao Biao, and occupying the entire Jiangnan West Circuit.

He had even sent people to rush the making of new banners; he did not want to be the King of Nanyue tucked away in South of the Ranges; he wanted to be the King of Chu.

In late December, the air in Hengzhou was damp and cold.

Even wearing several layers of cloth, one could feel the chill seeping into their bones.

The soldiers from the north were clearly unaccustomed to it, though fortunately, they had some cold-weather clothing.

Stuffing reeds or kapok between two layers of linen was only marginally effective.

The officers fared slightly better, having fur clothing to wear, and they did not have to stand guard in the cold wind.

Compared to the northern soldiers, the Southern Yue Army from South of the Ranges was clearly even less adapted.

They lacked means to keep warm, and from November onwards, people had been falling ill one after another, with some even losing their lives.

Feng Pu had hurriedly raised a batch of clothing from Guangzhou and other places, but it had little effect.

Now, the entire Southern Yue Army camp was very quiet, with soldiers huddled in their tents, shivering.

Feng Pu wrapped himself in his tiger skin and sat in the commanders tent, looking at the map.

Just then, the curtain of the commanders tent was lifted, and a gust of cold air poured in, causing Feng Pu to wrap the tiger skin tighter around himself.

The young man who entered crouched by the stove to warm himself for a while, then took a sip of hot tea, and finally let out a breath, as if he had come back to life.

Father, there are more and more sick people now. In my opinion, it would be better to retreat to Chenzhou first and fight again next year.

Feng Pu nodded, then shook his head.

That won't do, that won't do. If we retreat this year and let Mao Biao recover, I fear we won't even be able to hold Chenzhou! If we take Hengzhou in one go, we can march north to occupy Jizhou, Tanzhou, Yuzhou, and other places; then our game will be alive.

But Father, it is truly too cold here. The soldiers are complaining, morale is low, and I fear...

Shut up! We are people who will achieve great hegemony; in the future, we must fight to Hebei, Shandong, and even beyond the frontier!

Feng Pu roared, his ox-like eyes glaring at Feng Chengkun.

If you can't even stand a little cold now, what will you do when you get to the north? Hide in the house and warm yourself by the fire every day?

Feng Chengkun dared not speak, lowering his head to silently receive his father's verbal baptism.

After a long time, when Feng Pu's anger subsided, Feng Chengkun fled in a panic.