Chapter 448: Iron Horses and Icy Rivers Enter My Dreams

Watching all sides scramble to buy, Zhang Ruolin, Ma Shaoyu, and the other central-court envoys sat unmoved — they represented the imperial court; how could they shout and yell like local officials?

And privately speaking, although this trip carried the task of purchasing Jingbian Army’s fine bird guns and ammunition from Wang Dou, Zhang Ruolin did not consider that the main matter; completing the private errand entrusted by the Minister of War was the truly important affair.

Seeing everyone’s expressions, Wang Dou laughed heartily and said, “In that case, all of you, follow me to the training ground in my residence.”

The General’s residence had a place for the guards to drill, spacious and with every kind of weapon on the racks.

Wang Dou had some guards demonstrate the bird guns; watching the bird guns blast targets dozens of paces ahead into flying splinters, Yang Guozhu and the others all showed expressions of envy and delight. Zhang Fuzhen, Zhang Ruolin, and the rest were taken aback — they had long heard that the Loyal and Brave Count’s firearms were sharp, but seeing them for the first time was truly shocking.

Against such firepower, even if one wore iron armor, death would be certain, wouldn’t it?

After watching the bird-gun firing drill finish, Wang Dou smiled and said to Yang Guozhu and the others, “Commander Yang and the rest, have you noticed anything?”

Yang Guozhu and the others did not at first understand what Wang Dou meant, but they were all battle-hardened men; they took the Jingbian Army bird guns to examine, and also picked up the fixed paper-cartridge ammunition to inspect. After a long while, Yang Guozhu sighed, “The eastern-route powder is powerful; some of our bird guns, I fear their barrels cannot withstand it and risk bursting. Moreover…”

He looked at the bird gun in his hand — the muzzle sizes were almost identical. The bird guns forged by their own side, though equally fine in workmanship, had muzzles large and small; this was certainly no small problem.

In truth, everyone had noticed this issue before, but at the time they paid it no mind, because most of the Great Ming’s firelocks were like that.

Only cannon casting was somewhat stricter, with detailed standards and regulations for bore diameter — though because of the entrenched thinking of supervisors and craftsmen, many cannon muzzles still varied in size, imperceptibly increasing the difficulty of supplying baggage and ammunition.

They had not thought much of it then, but now, by comparison, the problem became apparent.

Yang Guozhu felt bitter inside — he had already striven to emulate them; could the gap between the two sides still be this large?

Once Yang Guozhu pointed it out, Wang Pu, Cao Bianjiao, and the others also discerned the clue one after another, all left speechless. Wang Tingchen rubbed his head and cried, “What is to be done about this? Does it mean that even if we have powerful powder, we cannot use it?”

The Regional Commander of Xuan–Da, Zhang Fuzhen, could no longer sit still either and called Yang Guozhu and the others aside to confer.

Only Zhang Ruolin remained unruffled; since this problem had arisen, they would simply buy the bird guns together with the ammunition when the time came — if Wang Dou had no stock, that would not be his own fault.

Yang Guozhu and the others conferred for a long time, then Yang Guozhu came over and said, “Guoqin, could you sell some bird guns to us?”

He sighed inwardly. The wealth and goods he had obtained that year, along with the provisions and pay allocated by the court, had mostly been poured into the army, and his finances were already very tight. He had raised the silver for this ammunition purchase from many sources; he had not expected that plans could not keep up with changes, and they would again exceed the budget.

Although the garrison could make up some of it, it could not be too much, or else favoring one over the other would inevitably draw snide remarks from other officers.

Wang Tingchen also put on a pained face and said to Wang Dou, “General Wang, it seems I must buy bird guns from you, but I have no money left.”

Seeing this forthright man’s bitter-melon face, everyone could not help laughing. Wang Dou also shook his head and smiled, “Old Brother Wang, you and I share a bond of life and death… Very well, I will give you two thousand bird guns, each with fifty rounds of ammunition. The same for young General Cao and Brother Wang Pu. And Commander Yang, I will give you five thousand bird guns, also with ammunition.”

“The funds for the ammunition and bird guns need not be paid all at once; you may make it up gradually in the future. I trust you all. When settling the account, it need not all be in silver taels — grain and rice, cloth, coal and iron, timber, large stone, all are acceptable, as long as the full amount is delivered within one year.” …

Moved by Wang Dou’s words, Wang Tingchen and the others were deeply touched. Wang Tingchen beat his chest with a thunderous sound: “General Wang, no more need be said. If anything comes up in the future, just say the word — your business is my business.”

Cao Bianjiao said solemnly, “The same goes for me.”

Wang Pu said urgently, “And me too.”

He added smugly, “The Loyal and Brave Count can rest easy; the funds and grain for the bird guns and ammunition will be delivered in full within two months.”

Yang Guozhu also said solemnly, “Guoqin, many thanks.”

Guo Yingxian shouted, “Ha ha, now that’s my good brother.”

Seeing everyone’s expressions, Wang Dou was pleased and said, “Gentlemen, there is no need for this. When we set out on the Liaodong campaign, I will still have to fight shoulder to shoulder with all of you.”

Watching Wang Dou’s conduct, Ji Shiwei’s eyes flashed with a gratified look — this son-in-law of his was growing more and more formidable.

Zhang Fuzhen stroked his beard and said nothing. Zhang Ruolin thought to himself, “This Wang Dou certainly knows how to curry favor and win hearts.”

The matters of selling and purchasing would naturally be handled by each man’s staff. The evening banquet was still some time away, so everyone chatted idly at the training ground. Wang Tingchen and a few others were off to one side, shouting and yelling as they played with the weapons and bird guns. Yang Guozhu walked over and said to Wang Dou with a slight smile, “Guoqin.”

Wang Dou also smiled, “Commander Yang.”

The status between the two men was somewhat delicate at this moment, but Yang Guozhu quickly changed the subject. His face clouded with worry, he said, “For this Liaodong campaign, I hear the slave-thieves are pouring out their entire nation. What odds of victory does Guoqin think our army has?”

Wang Dou knew that in history the Ming army had suffered a great defeat, but the present was different from the past.

He pondered and said, “In past days when the slave-thieves invaded, our Chinese armies mostly could not withstand them. At the Battle of Jinzhou, the slaves were even closer to our national borders and had the advantage of terrain.”

His gaze blazed: “The slave-thieves’ strategy still surpasses ours by a move. Their plan is to besiege a point and strike the reinforcements; our side knows full well it is a trap, yet we cannot but enter.” Yang Guozhu nodded, the worry on his face deepening.

Wang Dou continued, “However, our side also has advantages. Many new army units have been trained, and morale is at its peak. As long as the officers and men fight to the death, and we keep our supply lines secure, the odds of victory should be even at five to five.”

As for combat strength, in truth, during the Battle of Songshan, the various Ming armies fought the Qing troops with considerable vigor, without the old cowardice of daring not to fight in the field and fleeing at the first sight of the enemy. What Wang Dou mainly worried about was that the hearts of the campaigning officers and generals were not united, and that wrangling among many parties would cause harm.

The various Ming forces generally harbored different intentions, with internal contradictions surging — for instance, the Xuan–Da Army was at odds with the Guan–Ning Army. Miyun Regional Commander Tang Tong, Ji Garrison Regional Commander Bai Guangen, Shanhai Pass Regional Commander Ma Ke, and others were not easy men to deal with either.

There was also the conflict between the Army Supervisor and Hong Chengchou. After Zhang Ruolin arrived as the Ministry of War’s Army Supervisor, he was so overbearing that a rumor spread through the army: “They know only Supervisor Zhang, not Viceroy Hong.”

Moreover, although Hong Chengchou appeared outwardly humble and courteous, inwardly he was arrogant. His strategic dispositions were flawed. At the time, Ma Shaoyu and the Military Defense Circuit Zhang Dou had warned him; Zhang Dou even said, “Guard against them raiding our rear.” Hong Chengchou replied, “I have been a veteran Regional Commander for twelve years; what do you mere bookworms know?” — meaning, I have been Regional Commander for twelve years; what do you scholars understand?

Many contradictions and disunity of purpose were the maladies of the campaigning Ming army. The Qing side, by contrast, was largely of one mind.

Wang Dou concluded, “The Battle of Jinzhou will be a bloody struggle, more perilous than the Battle of Julu; we must be cautious.”

Speaking of the Battle of Julu, the two men exchanged a glance, and both felt a warmth — that was the moment their life-and-death bond had been forged.

Yang Guozhu suddenly let go of his reservations as well, thinking, why haggle over whether Wang Dou posed a threat to him? He recovered the ease and heroic spirit of a hundred-battle veteran and laughed heartily, “Generals die in a hundred battles, wrapped in horsehide for their return — what of the peril?”

His gaze deepened: “Back then, my elder brother’s sons all died in battle in Liaodong. Every time I return in dreams, it is always those scenes of those years. Perhaps I should have gone beyond the passes long ago.” …

Wang Dou looked at Yang Guozhu and felt a pang of sorrow. This great general’s frame was still tall and sturdy, but the marks of wind and frost were deeper. He was only in his forties, yet because of his worries over military affairs, he already showed signs of aging.

Wang Dou knew that in history, Yang Guozhu had died in battle at Songshan. Although now… hearing Yang Guozhu speak this way gave him an ill foreboding.

He said, “Commander Yang, you…”

Yang Guozhu waved his hand and murmured, “In the deep night, lying awake listening to the wind-blown rain, iron horses and icy rivers enter my dreams.”

He patted Wang Dou on the shoulder: “Guoqin, you must take my daughter’s matter to heart.”

Wang Dou said in surprise, “Your daughter?”

It suddenly struck him that Yang Guozhu was speaking of Xu Yue’e; he had heard that both Yang Guozhu and his wife, Lady He, doted on her considerably.

Wang Dou was about to say something, but Yang Guozhu had already walked away.

That evening, Wang Dou hosted a grand banquet for the party that had come to Yongning. The various Regional Commanders gathered together and could not help but talk of the times they had fought side by side, from Dingzhou and Zhuozhou all the way to Julu and Pinggu.

Wang Tingchen, in particular, drank quite a bit of wine. Speaking of the battle at Pinggu back then, he still grew so excited he gesticulated wildly, slapping his thigh and cackling, “… That Kong Youde still wanted to trade volleys with the Grand General — in the end, after a few rounds, his bird-gun troops collapsed. Wahahaha…”

Everyone let loose and drank heavily from large bowls. Yang Guozhu, having resolved his inner knot, was also exceedingly heroic; he accepted every challenge from Wang Pu and Wang Tingchen when they pressed him to drinking contests, his face flushing bright red.

Watching these martial men abandon all restraint, Zhang Fuzhen and Ji Shiwei took it in stride, but Zhang Ruolin inwardly scorned them, thinking that soldiers were just soldiers, unfit for polite company — even that Wang Dou was the same, something that being enfeoffed as a count could not change.

After the banquet, Yang Guozhu and the others staggered off, supported back to their official lodgings by their personal guards. Zhang Fuzhen, Zhang Ruolin, and the other officials likewise took their leave.

Only Ji Shiwei stayed behind, on the pretext that he needed to discuss some matters within the garrison with the Loyal and Brave Count.

The others, knowing full well that Wang Dou was his son-in-law, tactfully refrained from exposing it and left, exchanging glances.

The father-in-law and son-in-law entered the study. Stroking his long beard, Ji Shiwei chuckled heartily: "Dou'er, I never expected you could be enfeoffed as a count — that was beyond my anticipation. But now that you have achieved fame and success, you must not mistreat my daughter because of it."

Wang Dou said: "Father-in-law, rest assured, your son-in-law is not that kind of man."

Ji Shiwei nodded with satisfaction. Back when Ji Junjiao fled the marriage, Ji Shiwei had been extremely displeased with Wang Dou, but now it seemed his daughter's judgment had been outstanding.

The two talked of idle matters, and when the conversation turned to Wang Dou's troop quota and provisions, Ji Shiwei sighed: "I originally intended to secure a quota of fifteen thousand troops for you, including five thousand cavalry, but now it seems that is no longer possible."

Wang Dou nodded. Although he did not rely on the imperial court to maintain his army, whatever grain and fodder the higher-ups could allocate would still supplement his own military expenses to some degree.

The size of troop quotas, especially the proportion of cavalry, had always been a matter over which the various garrisons and generals fought fiercely.

Take cavalry, for example: each soldier, besides a monthly silver stipend of one tael and five mace plus five dou of rice, also received an annual allowance of twenty-four taels of silver for warhorse fodder and beans, along with issued armor.

In contrast, most infantrymen of the Ming army had no armor at all. Except for matchlock soldiers who received cotton-padded armor, the rest were at most given a waist-length cloth jerkin or surcoat, unlined with armor plates inside or out. If they wanted proper equipment, they had to pay for it themselves. Thus the civil officials or eunuchs in charge of the storehouses grew immensely wealthy from the process.

If he were granted an additional five thousand troop quota, even if they were infantry, that would mean an extra sixty thousand taels of silver in annual provisions. This inflow and outflow was no small sum.