Xing Muzheng had been waiting for his retreat. He had no patience for drawn-out tug-of-war battles, and his plan all along was to first break Guda. He had already, in secret, sent batches of troops toward Tongzhou. Once Meng Rang pulled back, Xing Muzheng left Xu Yizhao in Pengzhou, then took Wei Zhengwei and others to Tongzhou. If they slew Guda and crushed the Xili force, they could then press from both sides to strike Shinan directly, driving the Xili out of Hemen Pass.
Qian Jiaoniang remained in Pengzhou. This time it was not because Xing Muzheng forbade her, but because she herself chose to stay. Two major battles had left Pengzhou full of wounded. However brilliant a strategist, soldiers would still be injured. Qian Jiaoniang took charge of this, leaving Xing Muzheng with no worries behind him.
With Li Qingquan and Peng Shi at her side, she was quickly accepted by the soldiers. She thought carefully for their sake, acted swiftly and decisively—supplying what they lacked, tending the injured, sending those unfit for battle home with silver, or finding them other tasks. For those who had fallen on the battlefield, she carefully recorded their names, arranging for ashes and condolence money to be delivered to their families one by one.
The living had caretakers, the dead had arrangements, and with two victories won, the soldiers’ hearts grew ever more steady.
But Qian Jiaoniang was still not satisfied. She kept thinking about that sly Meng Rang. Even Xing Muzheng couldn’t pin him down—this man was like a loach, slippery and quick to escape. If that was the case, even if Xing Muzheng captured Guda and pushed forward to jointly attack Shinan Prefecture, it didn’t mean Meng Rang would be caught. Should he flee back and later return with renewed strength, wouldn’t Xing Muzheng be forced into a drawn-out struggle with him?
How could this bandit be caught? Qian Jiaoniang stepped out of the carriage. A fine drizzle was falling, Suier held an umbrella and supported her as she alighted. The soldiers in camp, seeing her arrive, called out “Madam” and were about to kneel in salute. Qian Jiaoniang waved her hand, saying, “The ground is wet, what are you kneeling for? Where are General Xu and the others?”
“The generals are all in the main tent discussing matters!”
Qian Jiaoniang made her way there, faintly hearing voices. The guards at the door, seeing her, quickly lifted the curtain and invited her in. The words “grain not arrived” fell upon her ears.
Inside, Xu Yizhao, Jiang Shuzhi, and several strategists were present. When they saw her, they all rose to salute. She asked them to sit, and Xu Yizhao invited her to the seat of honor. Qian Jiaoniang did not decline and sat at the head. “Gentlemen, what were you just discussing?”
“This…”
They looked at one another. Jiang Shuzhi answered: “Madam, the provisions the court was supposed to send have been delayed again, and from what I hear, the amount doesn’t match our numbers—it’s much less. Everyone is fretting over this.”
“Again?” Qian Jiaoniang frowned. How could she not know? Ever since Xing Muzheng became commander-in-chief, Yongan often used excuses to delay or cut back the soldiers’ rations and weapons, as if they could fight and win battles on empty stomachs and with bare hands.
“Exactly so. If this continues, the men will be going hungry.”
Qian Jiaoniang pondered briefly. “No need to panic. Since it is so, let’s first buy grain from merchants in Shinan and nearby prefectures, store it for now, and once the court’s grain arrives, we can sell back the surplus. Mister Fang, draft a letter immediately to Prime Minister Hang, asking him to give this matter more attention. Once you’ve written it, bring it to me and I’ll affix General Xing’s seal. And as for weapons and equipment—General Jiang, keep pressing when needed. Not a single piece can be lacking.”
Mister Fang and Jiang Shuzhi both accepted their orders. Xu Yizhao then asked, “Madam, is there some urgent matter that brings you here?”
Qian Jiaoniang nodded and shared the thoughts that had been on her mind. Finally, she said: “If Meng Rang manages to escape safely back to Xili, he will always be our greatest threat. Do you gentlemen have any strategies to ensure Meng Rang dies here?”
Xu Yizhao said: “What Madam worries over is what we worry over as well. But that fellow is too cunning—we have yet to devise a plan to lure the snake from its hole.”
One strategist said: “To eliminate him, the best way would be to invite him into the urn, then catch the turtle in the jar.”
Qian Jiaoniang seemed struck, murmuring, “Lure the snake from its hole… trap the turtle in the urn…”
Xu Yizhao asked: “But what bait should we use?”
For the moment, no one could answer.
Even after returning to the governor’s residence in Peng City, Qian Jiaoniang continued to think on it. That night, tossing and turning in bed as the moonlight shifted across the room, she was suddenly struck by inspiration.
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