Chapter 101: The Drunkenness

Upon seeing Geshu Han again, Li Guangbi still felt uneasy; who knew what unreasonable actions this man might take next.

Inside his grand tent, Geshu Han busied himself removing his heavy helmet and faceplate, then stood with arms and legs spread wide, waiting for his attendants to strip off his armor piece by piece until only a lining remained.

“Scared?” he asked indifferently as he tore off the short silk tunic, revealing his hairy chest. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he casually tossed the garment aside. “Cursing takes effort too; I suppose age has caught up with me.”

Li Guangbi wasn’t sure how to face this former comrade. Both had once served under Wang Zhongsu, but Geshu Han had since gone to Longyou and risen by his own merits, leaving Li far behind.

“I know you don’t get along well with Commander An, but there’s no need to savage all the men in Hexi. They have their pride too. Having just arrived, it’s not wise to antagonize everyone.”

Geshu shook his head. “You’re still the same as ever—overthinking, trying to please everyone. I don’t have the time or the need. An Huzi is gone; who knows if the court won’t come after your rear guard and have me deal with you? The wise ones will be noticed by the imperial envoys. The foolish ones? No one can save them.”

Li Guangbi stared in astonishment as Geshu counted off on his fingers, “Anyone named An is trouble. One commands troops arrogantly without restraint; the other is reckless and wild. Men like that—I’d rather not associate with them. Even if the emperor trusts them, can the officials?”

“Since An Huzi took over Hexi, how many battles have you fought? How many Tibetan towns have you captured? You don’t want to fight, yet you don’t let outsiders in. What are you trying to do? The emperor tolerates you because of the An family, but one day he won’t, and you’ll all be ruined together.”

Li Guangbi was dumbfounded. He had thought Geshu’s success was merely luck, but now it seemed anything but.

Their fates had been intertwined in odd ways. Back in the sixth year of the Tianbao era, Li served under Wang Zhongsu as commander of troops in Hexi and leader of the Chishui army, while Geshu was only a deputy commander. Now Geshu was a military governor of two circuits, and Li was still a deputy, effectively subordinate to his former peer—all thanks to the man who had connected them.

By then, Geshu had finished washing up and changed into comfortable civilian clothes. His grand tent was luxuriously appointed with finely woven wool carpets and double-layered leather walls to block the highland winds. Attendants continuously brought dishes and fine wine, soon filling the entire table.

“Come, drink with me,” Geshu invited.

Li Guangbi had no mind for drinking, but there was no room to refuse. Both being frontier men, they sat cross-legged at opposite ends of the table without fussing over formalities.

Unexpectedly, the drinking stretched into three rounds. Geshu seemed to be drinking alone, pouring generous gulps from a large jug, puzzling Li.

“Let me first congratulate you on becoming master of the two circuits,” Li finally raised his cup.

“So what if I command four?” Geshu slurred with a rough breath, startling Li. Looking around, the tent was suddenly empty.

“They don’t dare eavesdrop; the left guard keeps watch,” Geshu explained.

Though clearly drunk, Geshu’s eyes retained a sharpness, making it hard to tell if he was truly intoxicated or feigning madness.

Li rose to steady him but was gripped by a powerful arm.

Even at fifty, Geshu had the strength of a mountain shattering the earth.

“I’m not drunk,” he said, pulling Li down onto the carpet. “It’s been five years since our last meeting, hasn’t it?”

“About that. You went to the capital to take over Longyou, then never returned to Hexi,” Li replied.

He recalled well that trip—besides reporting and transferring posts, Geshu had a crucial mission: to rescue Wang Zhongsu, imprisoned by imperial order and presumed doomed by nearly everyone, including Li himself.

“To be honest, I didn’t want to come to Hexi. Your petty troubles don’t concern me. The Tibetans are already stretched thin, barely holding on. Gathering a large force only gives them an opportunity at Dafeichuan. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t give them that chance.”

Li’s heart jumped. This was a veiled criticism of the court’s policies, with consequences they both understood all too well.

“Watch your words.”

“What I say goes in one ear and out the other if you want this military governorship. So what if I give it up? Even if I’m not great, I can’t be worse than others.”

Geshu chuckled dismissively. Li could only shake his head in response—if he were that kind of man, would he still be merely a deputy?

“I’m not joking. If this campaign proceeds and An Huzi holds back, my troops in Longyou won’t move lightly either. We’ll advance along the Tibetan defenses as before, forcing them to fight on our terms. Our army can attack or defend flexibly, slowly wearing them down, sowing discord within, rather than massing forces and pushing them into united resistance, risking all-out annihilation. As a soldier, you understand this.”

Li understood perfectly. Commanding five thousand men was one thing; commanding one hundred fifty thousand was another. The larger the force, the clearer the target. The enemy’s tactic? Avoid the main force, cut off supplies, isolate the front and rear, then crush them—a strategy used by Gar Qinling at Dafeichuan.

Though smart, the orders were already written and must be obeyed. This was why Geshu had summoned him today. Li silently lifted a large bowl and gulped down the deep red liquid, its sweetness and alcohol flooding his senses, sharpening his mind.

“To command such an army, neither you nor I compare to Wang.”

Geshu straightened, his posture as upright as a mountain, uttering words that chilled the heart. Everyone knew this name was a thorn in the emperor’s side.

“With Xue Rengui’s skill, there was still defeat at Dafeichuan. I never thought the Tibetans were invincible, but on the battlefield, I never underestimated them. This is their home turf. The more troops we have, the more tangled things become. Hexi and Longyou have been separated for years; how can they be commanded as one? Can you teach me?”

“If Wang were still alive, with his prestige, even An Huzi would bow to him. With one hundred fifty thousand troops from the two circuits united, they could strike the Tibetans together, teaching them a lesson they’ve never had.”

Geshu paused, eyes filled with sorrow. “Everyone says I went to the capital to beg the emperor and saved Wang, but if the emperor truly wanted to strike, would he have allowed me into Chang’an?”

Li was so startled he sobered instantly. Such secrets spilled so easily.

What exactly was Geshu planning?