Chapter 232: A Tremendous Harvest

"If you dare not fight again, then roll aside and clear the way!"

Yang Hu was the night-scout soldier "Master Hu" from Long Er's original squad. When Wang Dou needed a soldier to go deliver a message inside the Qing army's lines, Master Hu volunteered eagerly. Though this mission carried extreme risk, success would bring immense merit, certain to leave a deep impression on the Mobile Corps Commander.

At this moment his face was full of pride as he swept a contemptuous glance over the surrounding Qing officers, great and small. His voice carried far and wide, and since he spoke in Manchu, nearly every Qing soldier heard his words. Every man who listened changed color.

Dudu's face was ashen, utterly ghastly. Master Hu eyed him sideways, a disdainful sneer on his face.

Before Dudu could speak, a burly Qing soldier beside Master Hu, his eyes blood-red, bellowed and lunged at him. Master Hu inwardly exclaimed, "Perfect timing."

Though he was watching the Qing officer before him, he had long been keeping his ears open in all directions and his eyes on every side. Intent on establishing his might, he swept out a kick. His whirlwind-like right leg slammed heavily into the Qing soldier's side shoulder, like striking rotted leather. A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed wildly from the Qing soldier's mouth; his body tumbled and crashed heavily to the ground, and as he landed, he vomited another gush of blood.

The Qing soldiers were all stunned — first, shocked that this Ming soldier dared to strike, and second, astonished by this Ming night scout's martial prowess. That Qing soldier was a Baturu of the Bordered Red Banner, the fiercest in battle. Who would have thought that in a surprise attack, he would be no match for a single blow from this Ming man?

Everyone felt they had lost face. Then the guards around Dudu recovered their senses, and instantly a thicket of gleaming weapons was pressed against Master Hu's neck.

Master Hu showed no fear. Arrogant by nature, the more dangerous the situation, the more it stirred his wild spirit. He looked sideways at them, merely sneering unceasingly at Dudu.

That Baturu lay on the ground, dazed for a long while, then suddenly let out another wild roar, sprang up, and tried to lunge at Master Hu again.

With a sharp crack, a riding whip lashed heavily across his face, splitting skin and flesh at once. A deep bloody welt appeared on his face — it was Dudu who had dealt him this heavy stroke.

Dudu's face was ashen. He roared at him: "Get down, you useless slave."

The Baturu, utterly humiliated, retreated in panic and confusion.

Dudu glared hatefully at Master Hu, grinding his teeth, a terrifying cold light flickering in his eyes: "What a bold little Ming soldier, to dare such insolence in the midst of my great army! Do you not fear that I will seize you and hack you to pieces with a flurry of blades?"

Master Hu threw back his head and laughed: "If I, Yang Hu, had even a shred of fear in my heart, I would not have come!"

He withdrew his smile and looked coldly at Dudu: "You may certainly do so, but you must also be prepared to bear the thunderous wrath of my general!"

He slowly swept his gaze over the Qing soldiers and officers present: "You Hu barbarians had best pray you do not fall into the hands of my Shunxiang Army, or you will suffer every torment and beg for death in vain!"

His tone was chilling. Though surrounded by thousands upon thousands of troops, every Qing soldier his eyes swept over felt a chill in their hearts, and many unconsciously averted their gaze from his.

A cold light flickered in Dudu's eyes. He said slowly: "Very well. Our Great Qing honors brave men most of all. For the sake of your courage and spirit, I shall pardon your offense of disrespect!"

Setting aside the so-called rule that envoys are not to be killed when two states are at war — his Manchu people did not believe in such conventions. What troubled Dudu was the fighting strength that Ming army had just displayed. If their firearms were so formidable, his own great army could not break through. Yet earlier their cavalry had also come out to fight, striking left and killing right, and his own riders had gained no advantage against them. Dudu had also seen that especially fierce group of over a hundred riders, who, as they withdrew into their wagon formation, had thrown out ropes and actually captured several of his own brave warriors on the spot, dragging them back.

If he killed this little Ming soldier, without a doubt, the several brave warriors of his own side who had been captured would also be tortured to death by them to vent their great hatred. Through this battle, this so-called Shunxiang Army had already demonstrated their ample combat power, and they possessed exactly the retaliatory power this little Ming soldier spoke of. As the master of a banner, Dudu could naturally consider this point.

After his personal guards released Master Hu, Dudu sneered: "Do you Han people not say that killing captives is inauspicious? Why is your great army so different, without the slightest heart of benevolence and righteousness?"

Master Hu sneered back: "A Hu barbarian speaks to me of benevolence and righteousness — truly laughable."

He said proudly: "Punishing evil is promoting good. My Shunxiang Army shows no mercy to Hu caitiffs."

Dudu naturally had no interest in discussing philosophical questions with Master Hu. He gave a cold snort and looked at Master Hu: "Your general wants this Beile to yield the road and avoid his path? Though the brave warriors under my command have suffered losses, the greater part remains, and there are still many cavalry. Go back and tell your general not to boast empty words. This Beile will reorganize his troops and be ready at any time to decide who is the stronger!"

Master Hu sneered: "With only these riders under your command? They are nothing special!"

He swept a glance over the surrounding Qing soldiers: "In my Shunxiang Army, every man has a heart ready to die for his country. Do you Hu barbarians have the same? If you wish to decide who is stronger, my general awaits at any time."

Watching Master Hu's distant figure, Dudu sighed inwardly: "A single spot reveals the whole leopard. In that Ming army called the Shunxiang Army, even a mere night-scout soldier possesses such courage. One can see the valor of their entire force. My defeat just now was not unjust."

He was filled with regret: "The Raoyu Beile was wise. I regret not heeding his words back then. The leader of that Ming army, Wang Dou, truly has something extraordinary about him. If this whelp is allowed to grow strong, he will indeed become a scourge to the Great Qing in the future!"

Just as he was sighing and brooding, Enggetu, the master of the Plain Red Banner of the Eight Banner Mongols, and Buyandai, the master of the Bordered Red Banner, came over with mournful faces: "Does the Anping Beile still wish to fight again? You absolutely must not fight any more! If we fight again, the brave warriors of our three banners will be completely wiped out."

No wonder they wore mourning faces. When their troops returned from battle just now, they made a rough count and were greatly alarmed. The armored soldiers of their two banners had already suffered over half losses, their vitality severely damaged. Compared to the Eight Banner Manchus, replenishing lost soldiers for the Eight Banner Mongols was an even greater problem. It was extremely possible that the two banners would never recover and would sink into ruin from this. How could this not terrify the two men?

Hearing Dudu's stubborn words, they hurriedly offered their counsel even more anxiously.

Enggetu said: "Anping Beile, if we sortie with our entire force, the great camp at Tongzhou will be left empty. Beware of unexpected developments."

Dudu was also worried about this matter. Originally, their Qing troops were invincible in field battles, so there was absolutely no reason for Ming troops to openly raid their camp in broad daylight. However, after the battle just now, Dudu's heart was no longer certain. Since the Great Ming now had an army like Wang Dou's, who knew if there was another one like it? Better to withdraw the troops and guard against unforeseen changes.

He comforted the two men for a while, assuring them he would not fight again, and also promised to petition the Emperor in the future to replenish the population and brave warriors of their banners. Finally he said: "Dispatch a group of brave warriors back to camp. We will follow behind that Ming army and see what they intend to do."

When Master Hu returned inside the wagon formation, he was greeted with a hero's welcome. The night scouts came up to him one by one, giving Master Hu thumbs-up.

Several brothers from his squad each came forward to embrace him. The Night Scout Company Commander Wen Daxing even strode up to greet him, clapping him on the shoulder repeatedly and saying, "Brother Yang, well done."

The crowd escorted him before Wang Dou. After hearing Master Hu's report, especially hearing how he had swept that Qing Baturu to the ground with one kick, everyone shouted in unison: "Master Hu, mighty and fierce!"

Many people laughed and cursed: "What damned Baturu — nothing more than that."

Hearing the praise of his brothers, Yang Hu's face glowed even brighter, and Wang Dou also nodded and praised him continuously.

Han Zhong grinned broadly beside them: "This kid has the style of old Han back in the day."

As for exactly what style he had back in the day, Wang Dou had no idea.

After hearing Yang Hu's report, Wang Dou smiled faintly: "The Tatars are afraid. They dare not fight again."

He patted his shoulder and gently told him to go rest. Master Hu was both surprised and delighted, overwhelmed by the favor. Escorted away by his night-scout brothers, he recounted in greater detail everything he had seen and heard on this mission.

At this moment, the Field Inspector Officer Chi Dacheng reported to Wang Dou that the gains and battle results of this engagement had been tallied: a total of six hundred and fifty-seven heads had been taken.

Not to mention the Qing corpses killed outright by the Shunxiang Army's cannons and firearms, most of the wounded Qing soldiers could not escape either. When those Qing riders retreated, they did so in panic and confusion, utterly unable to attend to these wounded men lying on the ground wailing. Without exception, these men all became military-merit heads for Wang Dou.

Besides the heads harvested, there were also armor and weapons. The owners of these heads had for the most part worn double-layered heavy armor, or at the very least a single layer of cotton armor studded with iron plates. There were roughly a thousand suits of armor here; even if some were damaged inside, they could be repaired.

In addition, over two hundred intact warhorses were gathered. Combined with the gains from the night scouts in previous days and the Stone Bridge battle, since arriving at the eastern outskirts, Wang Dou had already captured over four hundred warhorses and more than a thousand suits of armor. Many soldiers could now become cavalry or infantry. And then — he had toiled bitterly for several years to forge just over a thousand suits of fine iron armor, and now in one stroke... Wang Dou's eyes suddenly became very bright.

The several hundred dead horses on the ground could not be wasted either. After the horse meat was processed, for quite a long time, every soldier in the unit would have meat to eat. At the present stage, the provisions problem had already been largely solved. Although in this freezing weather the meat could be preserved, the army could not live on meat alone every day. The objective of heading toward Zhangjiawan still had to be pursued.

Looking around, his subordinates were all beaming with joy, brows raised and eyes smiling. Six hundred and fifty-seven heads, among them many Tatar officer heads — this military merit was truly immense. Looking at the common soldiers, they too were all laughing and chatting cheerfully, immensely pleased with themselves, boasting to each other about how many Tatar soldiers they had just killed.

Afterward, Wang Dou's expression grew somewhat somber. In this battle, his troops had also suffered over a hundred casualties, each laid carefully on the wagons. Although most of these men were wounded soldiers who could be treated, still... Wang Dou shook his head. Perhaps casualties in war were truly unavoidable.

By now it was already afternoon. Wang Dou's night scouts were dispersed outside the formation, while the logistics soldiers all came out, laboriously hauling the dead horses one by one into the formation, processing them on the spot — stripping out the innards, cutting away the inessential parts, and leaving large chunks of meat placed on the various wagons and wheelbarrows.

Though it was only simple processing, several hundred horses still took the men a very long time. While the Shunxiang Army was bustling with great relish, those Qing soldiers merely watched quietly from a distance. Only a few scout riders galloped close to observe, and when the night scouts moved out, they fled far away again.

When the work was finally done, Wang Dou gave the order to march.

He did not form a battle array again, but simply deployed the troops in a marching column of five men abreast, still advancing one company after another, with the baggage vehicles following accordingly. Only the night scouts and cavalry were dispersed on the flanks. With this marching formation, if they encountered an attack, they could quickly link head to tail and form a defensive square.

Wang Dou reckoned that those Qing troops had already lost their nerve and dared not attack again — even if they were unwilling to give up and still wanted another fight, at the cost of wiping out the elite of their banners. To maintain the charging power of cavalry, a very long distance was needed to maximize the horses' strength, and with his army's reaction speed, there would be ample time.

Indeed, as Wang Dou had thought, a large part of those Qing troops had already dispersed. Only about two thousand riders were following at a distance. Looking at a huge woven-gold dragon banner among them, it was the standard of Dudu, the master of the Bordered Red Banner. Wang Dou sneered — let them follow if they wanted; it did not matter.

The soldiers under Wang Dou's command pointed and gestured at those Qing soldiers, scattering a trail of scornful laughter behind them, then strode forward with faces full of pride.

……

After advancing another ten-plus li, the official road gradually cleared, and wheat fields and rivers appeared on both sides just as before. With this kind of terrain, there was even less fear of Qing cavalry following them.

They were not far from Zhangjiawan and could begin transporting grain.