Chapter 522: Encountering the Enemy

Old White Bull: To the book friend who fears I'm a devil-may-care author — for relevant maps, you can look up Mr. Tan Qixiang's historical atlas, then find satellite maps. Look at the two together, and that way you can understand the terrain in the book, as well as the battlefield strategies.

……

Only once they reached the Nüer River did Xie Yike finally breathe a slight sigh of relief.

The south bank of the Nüer River was mostly an area where Ming troops operated. Although Tatar scout riders still appeared here, compared to the north bank of the Nüer River, the danger index had dropped by quite a few points.

Still, Xie Yike remained very cautious. Danger often descends at the moment of greatest relaxation, and he had no wish for any accident caused by his own negligence — turning joy into sorrow.

At the same time, Xie Yike's heart was filled with delight. This scouting mission had yielded tremendous gains for his squad; they had obtained detailed intelligence on Baimiao Fort, and he figured his brother-in-law would surely be pleased when they returned. But during this reconnaissance, several brothers in the squad had died in battle, and another six or seven were gravely wounded. Thinking of this, no matter how optimistic and lively Xie Yike was, he could not help but feel grief welling up in his heart.

Like the north bank, the south bank of the Nüer River was equally lush with vegetation. Clumps of shrubs and weeds stretched one after another, seemingly dense and vast in an unbroken expanse, complex enough to make a person dizzy and lose their bearings. Any armchair strategist who planned battles by map alone would smash their head bloody against terrain like this.

This was also the reason large-scale night raids were rare in this era. Except for a small number of elite units, night combat very seldom occurred.

Even though he considered his own sense of direction decent, and there were starlight and the moon in the sky, Xie Yike still had to stop and go, pausing from time to time to confirm his bearings. Behind him, the many Night Scouts also walked with extreme caution. In this stretch of territory, no one knew whether there were Tatar ambush riders, so everyone's vigilance was very high.

The terrain underfoot rose and fell continuously, and the men had to keep their balance, lest they carelessly stumble and twist or break a foot.

After walking for quite a while, Xie Yike suddenly raised his left hand again. Immediately, everyone halted, warily scanning their surroundings.

Xie Yike's nose twitched, his ears pricked high. Suddenly, his left hand beckoned. At once, Squad Commander Ma Ziren, Vice Squad Commander and Night Scout unit officer "Bench," ducked low and swiftly came to Xie Yike's side. Xie Yike whispered a few words into their ears, then pointed toward a direction on the left.

The two men's spirits lifted. They concentrated and listened carefully for a moment, and could not help but feel boundless admiration for Xie Yike's keen sense of smell — especially Jie Yifeng, who now regarded Xie Yike as his personal idol.

He thought to himself: "Master Xie truly thinks differently from ordinary men. He has been away from the Vanguard Scout Battalion for a long time, yet the moment he returns, he is this outstanding. Truly a born Night Scout."

Since returning from the bandit campaign, Jie Yifeng had earned considerable merit and had even been promoted to Vice Squad Commander. Accompanying Xie Yike on this scouting mission, he had reaped rich reconnaissance results, which only deepened his reverence for Master Xie.

The men of the Vanguard Scout Battalion ordinarily all called Xie Yike "Master Xie." In truth, Xie Yike had another nickname — Brother Yike — but that was not something Jie Yifeng was entitled to use.

Ma Ziren thought: "These Tatars, daring to smoke pipes out in the open — running into Brother Xie, whose nose is keener than a dog's, they truly have no idea how they died."

The three whispered a few words. Bench waved his hand, and at once his old partners Big Girl, Second Girl, and Actor crept stealthily after him. Their figures quickly vanished into the night, melting into the weeds.

Bench had a stocky build, yet his movements were extraordinarily agile, like a hunting leopard, landing without a sound. Big Girl and Second Girl were famed within the Vanguard Scout Battalion for their nimbleness and agility. They returned quickly, Jie Yifeng's face bearing a savage grin, while the Big Girl brothers and Actor were equally brimming with excitement.

"No more than ten Tatars, and they're not on alert either."

"Good."

A cold gleam flashed in Xie Yike's eyes. His left hand, which had been pressed against his own throat, immediately moved away. He quietly issued orders: aside from a few men left behind to guard the horses and wounded, the remaining thirty-odd Night Scout soldiers would all follow him in the attack.

The entire party grew excited. They took their preferred weapons from the horses and swiftly made ready.

Ma Ziren used a long saber. Jie Yifeng still used his round shield and iron hammer. The "Big Girl" and "Second Girl" brothers, along with Actor, originally used hand cannons and Rumi muskets, but now they all switched to foot-drawn heavy crossbows, strung them, and drew poison arrows from their crossbow quivers to nock.

Poison arrows were widely used in the Ming army, but they had a drawback: the raw materials were difficult to extract, making large-scale equipment impossible. Moreover, they did not keep long; once the vial was exposed to air, the poison's potency quickly evaporated. Therefore, generally only the Night Scouts were equipped with poison arrows.

As for the Jingbian Army's hand cannons, although their power was immense — if they struck at close range, not even the three-layer heavy armor of the Bayara could withstand them — the noise they produced was very great. Though every man in the Vanguard Scout Battalion's Night Scouts carried several hand cannons, during ordinary scouting missions, for stealth attacks and assassinations, they still used strong bows and powerful crossbows.

Under Xie Yike's arrangements, more than half of the thirty-odd Night Scouts taking part in the attack took bows and crossbows from their horses, preparing to silently and soundlessly finish off those Tatar scout riders. This was no arena contest; naturally, they would do whatever was most advantageous.

The party was quickly ready. In the starlight, their eyes all glinted with a faint, ghostly light, like a pack of hungry wolves preparing to hunt.

Following Xie Yike's hand signals, they swiftly split into several groups and crept away from multiple directions.

Soon, Xie Yike and his men crept stealthily to the front of a wooded area. This patch of woods was utterly wild, surrounded by thick weeds, with only a few tall poplar trees in the center and a stretch of flat ground among them.

Under the moonlight, they saw several Tatar soldiers quietly resting against the large trees. These Tatars were all short and stocky, with obvious signs of bowlegs. They seemed to be wearing blue armor and were equipped with curved sabers and horn bows. Only one man had a sulde pole draped with wolf skins leaning against his shoulder — they appeared to be scout riders of the Mongol Plain Blue Banner.

They were all very cautious. When they occasionally exchanged a few words, their voices were kept very low. Some horses stood quietly to one side, all bridled with bits. Combined with the terrain being surrounded by thick grass on all sides, making approach and search difficult, it was indeed an excellent hiding spot.

However, one man was contentedly puffing on a tobacco pipe, and that had exposed their position, plunging this party into danger.

Tobacco smoking was extremely prevalent in Liaodong at this time, among both Ming and Qing troops alike. These Mongol Eight Banner soldiers, having likely lived in the Qing state for a long time, had also picked up the smoking habit.

Xie Yike concealed himself soundlessly in the grass. The dense weeds hid his figure completely and tightly. Ma Ziren was likewise concealed beside him, quietly parting some weeds and peering through the gaps in the fine grass.

The two of them also spotted what seemed to be a Tatar sentry, hidden beneath a large tree.

Suddenly, as if sensing something, or perhaps feeling that the surroundings were too still, too eerie — a premonition that a battle-hardened warrior could scarcely put into words — the sentry reacted.

He abruptly looked in Xie Yike's direction. And it was at that very moment —

Whoosh.

A streak of light flashed through the moonlight.

With a thud, the Tatar sentry was sent flying sideways. A crossbow bolt had come from the left, striking him squarely in the neck.

The arrow's force was so fierce that it sent him tumbling straight over. He clutched desperately at his throat, struggling with all his might.

The Tatar soldiers in the woods were shocked. Their reactions were not slow; they immediately jumped up to grab their bows and weapons.

But just as they reacted —

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

Dense arrows came flying one after another, and from shifting directions — it seemed as though enemy archers were on all sides.

Muffled groans sounded continuously. In the blink of an eye, more than half of those Mongol Plain Blue Banner scout riders in the woods were rolling on the ground, writhing in their death throes.

The power of the Jingbian Army Night Scouts' foot-drawn heavy crossbows was tremendous, and what they used were poison arrows. Anyone struck by an arrow would, in the blink of an eye, either die or be gravely wounded.

The Tatar soldier who had been puffing on his pipe was shot even more dramatically — an arrow pierced straight into his mouth, the powerful bolt exiting through the back of his head. The impact slammed him against a large tree behind him. With a boom, the Tatar was nailed alive to the tree, his eyes wide open, his body merely twitching violently.

Only the Zhuanda wielding the sulde pole reacted the fastest. As if acting purely on instinct, he threw himself to the ground and rolled, barely evading several incoming cold arrows. Then he sprang up in one motion, his right hand sweeping out — the sulde pole was already in his grip.

He charged forward in a single burst. Under the moonlight, his figure was as agile as an ape. Moreover, his sense of premonition seemed extremely strong; in his ape-like leaping, he narrowly dodged several more incoming crossbow bolts.

But he was only human, after all. His body's reaction speed had its limits. And their opponents, the Jingbian Army's Night Scouts, were no easy targets either.

Thunk.

A powerful arrow shot in at a tricky angle, piercing through his left shoulder. The force of the foot-drawn heavy crossbow was such that the arrowhead even protruded from his back.

The immense momentum sent him staggering backward, and finally he toppled to the ground.

Under the moonlight, a dark shadow pounced like a leopard. A flash of icy, bone-chilling light appeared before the Zhuanda's eyes.

The Zhuanda's eyes opened to their widest. Summoning all the strength in his body, he rolled again.

He had just barely scrambled to his feet when a dark, blurry object came smashing at his head. With a boom, it struck the Zhuanda squarely on the skull.

Flesh and brain matter sprayed out. Without even a grunt, the Zhuanda crumpled to the ground.

Before losing consciousness, he seemed to see a huge figure — square and blocky, very strange — with an enormous head, wielding a giant iron hammer.

Is it a bear? Doesn't look like it.

After the bench smashed that Juandala to the ground, the iron hammer in his hand struck fiercely several more times, pounding the Juandala's head into a pile of minced flesh. Only then did he spit and say smugly, "No matter how cunning you are, you'll still drink the water I, Bench, wash my feet in."

……

This ambush battle ended in a very short time, without causing much commotion.

Xie Yike and his men had overwhelming numbers, plenty of powerful crossbows and poisoned arrows, and the enemy was caught off guard, so victory in the fight was a matter of course.

In this battle, their side suffered no casualties. After the fighting ended, ten Tartar soldier corpses lay strewn about this forest clearing. Apart from the Tartar Juandala, whose body was mangled beyond human shape, the remaining corpses were all twisted in grotesque postures — the power of the Jingbian Army's poisoned arrows.

Looking at these corpses, Xie Yike chuckled lightly, "On the way home, we even get a harvest like this. Luck is truly on our side."

The comrades around him all chuckled softly, taking a moment to rest as convenient, each man delighted.

Xie Yike's nimble eyes cautiously swept the surrounding area. He said, "This place is not safe to linger. Take the Tartars' horses and let's go."

Those spoils of war were already of little consequence. The Tartar heads held little appeal for Xie Yike and his men either. This area was still dangerous territory — better to leave early.

At once, the group rejoined those who had stayed behind and quietly departed this place, as if the battle just now had never happened at all.

Leaving only those foreign corpses, lying silently on this land that did not belong to them.

Thereafter, Xie Yike remained cautious and vigilant, but along the way, they encountered no more Tartar scout riders.

After crossing the river shoal area, the men spurred their sturdy horses on. By the time the sky was just brightening, they had already passed the Wofosi area.

Ahead, Ming army scout riders frequently set out. Seeing they were safe, and having accomplished their scouting mission, the whole party was full of cheerful talk and laughter.

Xie Yike habitually touched his sexy mustache, turned back and smiled, "Brothers, you performed well this time. When we return and see the Grand General, I'll request commendations for you all."

The night scouts all chimed in, "Many thanks, Master Xie."

"This time back, I reckon we'll earn quite a few merits."

Suddenly, Xie Yike's brow furrowed. Ahead, he saw dust and smoke billowing. He pulled out his spyglass and said irritably, "It's Tartars, and quite a few of them."

Ma Ziren put away his spyglass, his expression equally grave. "Probably no fewer than fifty men." To be continued. Welcome to cast your recommendation votes and monthly votes.