Chapter 19: The Horse Trader Zhang Shiping

The primary mission of the Xianbei cavalry was to hunt down Zou Jing. By now, Zou Jing had vanished without a trace, so there was no need to recklessly clash with the Chixing soldiers.

Thus, the Xianbei horsemen began to evade, dodging the Chixing soldiers’ attacks, scattering and retreating.

The Chixing soldiers shouted and clamored to kill the “barbarians,” chasing the Xianbei cavalry and striking wildly.

This chaotic skirmish was the kind of battle the bandits were most familiar with, and it looked quite imposing.

Of course, the actual results were pitifully meager.

Yet, from appearances alone, it seemed as though the Chixing soldiers had “bloomed in the center” and defeated the Xianbei cavalry.

The bandits had plenty of experience with plundering, but this was their first real battle, and they felt as if they had won.

After all, it looked like the enemy was scattering in retreat.

Based on their plundering experience, a victory meant pursuing the enemy, so they noisily followed the Xianbei horsemen, clamoring and chasing.

However, this was not an organized pursuit but rather each man chasing after the nearest enemy.

When chasing a fat sheep, if it’s close, chase it; if it runs far, let it go—that was how they operated when looting.

Though chaotic, their morale was indeed high.

So the Xianbei cavalry withdrew even faster, soon disappearing from sight, making their retreat look more like a rout.

Of course, they couldn’t catch up; seeing the Xianbei ride off into the distance, the Chixing soldiers returned, flushed and panting, beginning to boast.

The Xianbei cavalry had come specifically to hunt Zou Jing, not to fight battles. They naturally did not wish to be bogged down here. If it came to a real fight, these ragtag Chixing soldiers would surely be annihilated.

But the Chixing soldiers did not see it that way; they believed it was a glorious victory, each one excited beyond reason, eager for more “barbarians” to come so they could show off again.

“Sir, it’s just that we have too few horses; otherwise, we could have wiped out all the barbarians!” one boastful Chixing soldier grinned.

“Yes, yes! If we hadn’t lost them, how could they have escaped?” Zhang Ba nodded enthusiastically. “Barbarians are nothing—break and run at the first touch! I reckon I could take on ten of them!”

This fellow even knew an idiom, though he had to count on his fingers to reach ten—for him, ten was the largest number.

Liu Bei exchanged a weary glance with Jiuchi, and both sighed in unison.

“Let’s quickly clean up the battlefield… see if there’s any spoils. There should be a few horses by the river,” Liu Bei waved Zhang Ba off to work, wanting to keep him from babbling nonsense.

Because the Xianbei withdrew hastily, those ownerless horses were surely left behind—there should be some gains at least.

Zhang Ba was well-suited for cleaning the battlefield—not because of his strength, but because he wouldn’t pocket any spoils.

There weren’t many spoils; the Xianbei left behind seven bodies and five warhorses.

Of the seven Xianbei, five had been caught in ropes from the start and died beneath trampling horses, looking ragged and pitiful.

Only two were killed by the Chixing soldiers—one by Jiuchi, the other beaten to death by mounted Chixing soldiers. The causes of death were clear.

But seven men and only five horses?

The Xianbei were retreating under pursuit and couldn’t lead away horses without riders.

Liu Bei ordered the Chixing soldiers to search the area thoroughly. Warhorses were valuable and could not be lost.

“Sir, I found the band of barbarian horses we saw earlier! I think those two horses were taken by them,” Jiuchi, the most meticulous of the Chixing soldiers, was the first to find the trail. “They’re just downstream in the river, crossing… about thirty men, over a hundred horses—I swear this time I’m not wrong!”

“You mean our spoils were stolen by them?” Liu Bei’s face showed confusion. “Stealing horses right on the battlefield—do they have such nerve? Besides, we were just fighting barbarians…”

“Sir, that horse band isn’t Xianbei. The Xianbei shave their heads and leave a braid, but these men have topknots,” Jiuchi explained. “They’re probably the surrendered Wuhuan. The Wuhuan have animosity with the Xianbei and aren’t exactly close to our Han either…”

Liu Bei thought it over. If he were the Wuhuan, seeing the Xianbei fighting a band of “bandits,” he probably wouldn’t interfere either. Taking horses on the sly was quite possible.

No matter who they were, the spoils had to be recovered!

Over a hundred horses…

The Chixing soldiers, already eager to show their might, grew even more enthusiastic on hearing about the barbarian horse band. Each rushed to claim the glory, soon arriving where Jiuchi had said.

Not far downstream from the Battle of Juma River, about seven or eight miles from the previous battlefield, a group of men with barbarian topknots were attempting to cross the river.

But they were clearly unfamiliar with this river.

The Juma River was seasonal: shallow during dry seasons, deep during floods, with significant seasonal variation.

It was currently spring—the water was only chest to belly deep, seemingly easy to cross.

Yet, the river’s name itself was a warning—it could “stop horses.”

Because the riverbed was full of silt.

The slow current caused sediment to settle, creating a muddy quagmire beneath the surface.

If the water were deeper, horses could float and swim across; but since it wasn’t deep enough, once they entered the river, they would sink into the mud.

Of course, humans would sink too.

When Liu Bei arrived with his men, some horses in the band were struggling desperately to pull their legs free…

While others were trying to rescue those trapped.

“Advance, surround them… no killing!” Liu Bei ordered quickly. Since they might be surrendered Wuhuan, he did not want the Chixing soldiers to be too brutal.

These barbarians were clearly not Xianbei; when surrounded, they showed no resistance.

Then again, they couldn’t resist—most were stuck in the river mud.

“Sir… we are the Zhang family’s horse convoy from Yuyang, transporting horses through here. May I ask your honorable name?” The leader, dressed in Eastern barbarian garb, spoke with the manners of a gentleman. He showed no panic at being surrounded and instead took the initiative to speak to Liu Bei.

“Zhang family of Yuyang?” Liu Bei frowned and considered for a moment. He didn’t reveal his own name but instead asked, “Who are you? Why the barbarian attire?”

“I am Zhang He, courtesy name Shiping,” the man bowed and explained. “We collect horses in barbarian lands. If we dressed in Han attire, the barbarians would charge us high prices.”

Liu Bei nodded. “Where are these horses being sent?”

“These horses are privately purchased by my clan for our own use, being sent to Lunu in Zhongshan, not for sale.”

Zhang He pulled a wooden tablet from his bosom. “This is our pass.”

The tablet bore two official seals—one from the Yuyang Household Office and one from the Lunu Household Office.

It stated the bearer was Zhang He of Yuyang, traveling to deliver clan goods.

This pass, called a “Guosuo” or “Chuan,” was a travel permit required to pass through prefectures or counties to avoid being mistaken for vagrants or bandits, which could result in confiscation of goods.

Liu Bei looked at the pass but snorted and shook his head. “You are currently within Zhuo County, yet your pass bears no seal from Zhuo County. Zhang He, you’re trying to deceive me… these horses were stolen by your group!”