"What?!""The Lord has crushed the Xianbei?""Over ten thousand killed?""And their chieftain captured alive?!""Quick—let me see the report!"
At once, the crowd surged forward.
"What 'Lord'? It's the Protector of the Wuhuan!" someone corrected.
The courier, having come from Gaoliu, didn't realize Zhang Xin held multiple titles.
"The Prefect is the Protector of the Wuhuan—never mind that. Hurry and show us the report!" the people urged.
Nodding, the courier pulled out a public notice—an unsealed lubu, meant for all to read—and held it up.
Zhang Xin had anticipated this moment. With the Xianbei newly repelled and refugees just beginning to return home, forcing them back into the city might cause unrest. So alongside official dispatches, he had ordered the Dai County prefect to issue public proclamations explaining his policies.
"The Lord really defeated the Xianbei!" the people cried in delight.
Literacy during the Han Dynasty was widespread enough that most could read the notice themselves.
"But it says the Xianbei are short on food and may return—we must continue the scorched-earth policy…"
"Then let them starve!" someone shouted."Exactly! We have grain in Yuyang. We can hold out—how long can those barbarians last?"
After giving the crowd time to read, the courier spoke again. "I must deliver an official order to the prefect's office. Please make way."
The people stepped aside.
Just as he was about to ride off, a firm voice called out:
"May I see the report?"
The courier looked up. An elderly man approached, flanked by officials. Startled, he quickly dismounted.
"And you are…?"
"I am the Prefect of Yuyang—Cai Yong."
The courier bowed deeply and handed over a sealed bamboo tube. Cai Yong broke the wax seal, withdrew the slips, and read.
The contents were mostly the same—except for one added line:
"County officials are ordered to relocate the populace again."
When he finished, he passed it to Xianyu Fu and the others.
They were stunned.
"Yuan Tan…" Cai Yong murmured. "How long has it been since the Han achieved such a victory?"
"More than sixty years, I would say," Gu Yong replied, swallowing hard.
Ordinary people might not know, but Gu Yong—well-versed in the classics—understood the weight of this moment.
Since the Xianbei broke from Han control during Emperor An's reign, the empire's record against foreign tribes had been dismal.
The Qiang rebelled often—yet even against them, victories rarely exceeded two or three thousand kills, hardly crippling their forces. After a century of conflict, Liangzhou was nearly lost.
Against the Xianbei, it was worse—usually only a few hundred slain.
The most notable recorded victory? In the fourth year of the Yuan era, when the Wuhuan allied with the Han, they killed 1,300 Xianbei.
A purely Han victory? Eight hundred slain under a former Prefect of Yuyang during Emperor Shun's reign.
After Tanshihuai unified the Xianbei, things deteriorated further.
Even the greatest later victory—under Zhang Huan—yielded only two hundred kills.
Two hundred.
Barely worth recording.
More often, the records read: "The Xianbei plundered," or "officials and people were slain."
Gu Yong exhaled sharply. "If Zhang Xin has not exaggerated… over thirteen thousand enemies killed, and the chieftain captured alive—this is a victory unseen in a century!"
Cai Yong frowned. "What did you call him?"
Gu Yong quickly corrected himself. "This student misspoke."
"The Prefect is said to return within days," Cai Yong said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "I look forward to meeting him."
Meanwhile, the courier departed, galloping toward the busiest streets, shouting:
"Great victory! Great victory!"
…
Five days later, Zhang Xin finally returned to Yuyang, escorting Kui Tou and his captives with over a hundred guards.
The countryside was empty—just as he had ordered. Reaching the city gates, he found them shut tight, soldiers alert atop the walls.
He nodded in approval. Xianyu Fu had done well.
Drawing a breath, Zhang Xin called out:
"Yuyang! Your governor has returned!"
The guards—many former Yellow Turban rebels—recognized him instantly.
"The Lord has returned!" they cheered as the gates swung open."Welcome back in triumph!"
The commotion spread through the city, and people poured into the streets.
"The Prefect is back!""Let's go see!"
Zhang Niujiao led the welcoming party.
"My lord, why so few with you? Where are the others?"
"The Wuhuan cavalry have gone home. The rest are stationed at Ning County—to guard against another Xianbei attack."
"And Yuyang?"
"All is well," Zhang Niujiao replied with a grin. "The Xianbei dare not approach."
"You've done well. I'll reward you later."
"My lord jests. You fought beyond the frontier—that is true hardship."
"Keep watch on the walls," Zhang Xin instructed before riding into the city.
The streets were packed.
When people saw Kui Tou and the captured chiefs—bound, shaven, and dressed in foreign finery—their anger erupted.
"They really captured the Xianbei leader!""Six of them!""The Lord is incredible!"
Memories of past raids surged. Stones flew.
"Scum! Now you pay!""Kill them!"
The soldiers stepped aside to avoid being hit. The captives, bound to their horses, could not escape anyway.
After a while, Zhang Xin raised his voice:
"I still have use for them. Do not kill them."
At once, the crowd stopped.
"If the Prefect says so, we obey."
They looked at him with reverence.
Just a year ago, Yuyang had been ravaged by raids. Grain prices had soared to seventy or eighty coins.
Now? The Wuhuan had submitted. The Xianbei chieftain was captured. Grain had dropped to forty coins.
Even meat—once reserved for the New Year—was now cheap and plentiful.
Who brought this change?
The Prefect.
Emotion swelled in the crowd until someone shouted:
"Long live the Prefect!"
"Long live the Prefect!" others echoed.
Zhang Xin smiled faintly.
The common people are simple, he thought. Treat them well, and they will give you their hearts.
Then, gathering his strength, he declared:
"The Han army is mighty!"