Chapter 575

Old Bai Niu: I uploaded it but it didn't publish — speechless. One chapter at 6 p.m., maybe another tonight. Also, replying to the Shanghai Sweet Vegetable reader: I can't draw the illustration. I can manage freehand, but computer drawing — I can't find my way around it.

……

Having been on the mountain so long, the Jingbian Army artillerymen had long ago verified countless positions for every firing range below the mountain and densely drawn up firing charts. The gentle slope below the mountainside, in particular, was the gunners' key bombardment zone.

The mortar shells fired also differed from those of the Red Barbarian cannons or Frankish cannons; their firing angle was more curved, so they would not sail far off into the distance and miss.

Thump, thump, thump!

Amid the muffled blasts of the mortars, poison shells and ash shells fell continuously into the dense crowds of Qing troops. The moment the fuses burned to their end came violent explosions, and eerie green smoke and white mist spread everywhere.

With every explosion, Qing soldiers and bondservant aha who were hit howled in terror and fled wildly. The wooden shields the aha slaves used for cover were utterly useless.

The eerie whistling sounds never ceased. Poison shells and ash shells rained down incessantly from the mountain's artillery platforms. Unlike the Red Barbarian cannons, which needed cooling, mortar bombardment required only ample shells — you could fire to your heart's content without worry.

Mortars were also far easier to move and turn than Red Barbarian cannons. Even a mortar that fired shells weighing over twenty jin could be carried off by four strong men with a single heave.

Amid the chaos, the Two Yellow Banner Mongol troops, a portion of the Manchu troops, and the multitude of bondservant slaves continued to climb the hillside. But gradually, the terrain became difficult to traverse.

Some slopes were rather rugged, and everywhere were deep trench traps. Inside these trap trenches were wooden spikes, their tips fire-hardened and wickedly sharp. By now, many men already hung impaled within each trench trap, both Han and Mongol, every one of them dying in a ghastly manner.

The sharp, deep wooden spikes pierced through their bodies. Every corpse was twisted into a bizarre posture; their blood, congealing in the cold wind, gave off a heart-stopping gleam.

Even with the efforts of the many slaves, once they reached this point, those heavy wooden shields became impossible to push forward in many places. They either abandoned them or, under the harsh orders of the Manchu and Mongol officers, struggled to inch forward, foot by foot.

Because of the earlier waves of attacks, Ashan and Baiyintu, the banner lords of the Manchu Two Yellow Banners, had also discussed and devised some countermeasures. Ant-like bondservant slaves also carried up sacks and earth-filled baskets from the foot of the mountain, laboriously filling in these trench traps.

But there were simply too many traps. Filling them all was an immensely colossal project, and all the while they had to guard in terror against the poison smoke and ash shell attacks from the mountain.

This ground was already difficult to traverse, so the vast mass of Manchu and Mongol troops were densely packed onto the ten flat passageways deliberately left open on the various slopes southeast and northeast of the Changling Mountain defense line.

These passageways had no trap trenches; the ground was gentle and easy to walk on. Naturally, they had also been the key attack routes for the Outer Vassal Mongol tribes earlier. Before their attacks, they had likewise forced those bondservant slaves to provide cover with shield carts.

But now, the passageways were not only strewn with corpses lying every which way, but also filled with wooden shields of every color, either broken apart, split open, or burned. Many wooden shields still blazed fiercely, severely obstructing movement. Before the Manchu and Mongol troops could pass, they had to force those bondservant slaves to clear the way first.

All the while, the mortars on the mountain kept pounding down poison shells and ash shells, accurately blasting between the wooden shields and into the dense crowds.

The spreading death smoke caused a commotion every time. As many soldiers struggled and screamed in alarm, a feeling of despair welled up in their hearts. This Changling Mountain was no ordinary mountain ridge — it was clearly a hell of corpses.

With great difficulty, the Two Yellow Banner Mongol troops and Manchu troops pressed forward to the first wave of low walls and trenches of the Jingbian Army's logistics troops. An even deeper sense of powerlessness surfaced in their hearts, and they understood the fear those Outer Vassal Mongol troops had felt earlier.

Before them was a low wall. The wall was not actually high, reaching only to about chest height, but it was rammed extremely solid. That was nothing; the key was that there was a slope in front of the low wall. Counting the slope, the wall was effectively two zhang high.

Because the weather had turned cold, many parts of the slope ahead had been doused with water, which, along with some congealed blood, gleamed with a cold, slippery light. Trying to cross the slope and climb onto the low wall was clearly no easy task.

Moreover, in front of this low wall were a full three trench lines. The first two trenches were manageable — though half a zhang wide and half a zhang deep, and full of sharp wooden spikes below. The key was the third trench: one zhang deep and one zhang wide, filled inside with sharp spikes, and in front of the trench were layer upon layer of chevaux-de-frise and abatis. Trying to move these obstacles right under the eyes of the Jingbian Army — just thinking about it made one...

In fact, the spaces between these three trenches were already filled with densely packed corpses in bizarre postures, stretching out into the distance along the trenches in every direction.

Not only that, but what the Tatars and bondservants could see was that behind this low wall were two more low walls, each tier higher than the last, each wall only a few paces apart, a dozen or so at most. According to those mentally shattered Outer Vassal Mongol troops who had attacked the ridge earlier, behind these were a second wave of six more such low walls, and finally the main stronghold built of mountain stone.

The troop disposition of those damned Jingbian troops was as insidious and damnable as they were. Sometimes when their own warriors attacked fiercely and the first wave of low walls was hard to hold, they would fall back to the second wave. At that point, their strength became the combined force of two waves. Sometimes they fell back to the third wave, and then their strength was the combined force of three waves, with even fiercer firepower.

In between, one also had to guard against their spearmen frequently sallying forth in counterattacks. One careless moment, and the whole lot of them would push back to the front of the first wave of low walls and trenches. Over and over this repeated, and the blood of brave warriors kept spilling across this ordinary mountain ridge.

Once, Gulusiqibu, the Jasagh of the Kharchin Right Banner, led his troops in an assault all the way to the front of their main stronghold. That was the most glorious moment for the various Outer Vassal Mongol tribes. But when they pressed to the front of the main stronghold and faced its higher, thicker, jagged stone walls and the dense towers, they shrank back, leaving behind another meaningless carpet of corpses.

The front was hard to assault. Some of those Outer Vassal Mongol troops also detoured to the northeast part of the ridge, hoping to follow the river and attack up the mountain. But this side also had multiple lines of low walls and trenches, and the mountain terrain was rugged, making it impossible to deploy their forces — even harder to attack. Some even tried to circle around to the back of the mountain, but that side was all cliffs and precipices. Many fell to their deaths while climbing...

Facing a defense line like that of the Jingbian Army's logistics troops, a feeling of powerlessness surfaced in the hearts of the Two Yellow Banner Mongol troops and that portion of the Manchu troops.

Yet as the lofty banner lords of the Manchu Two Yellow Banners, Ashan and Baiyintu would not care about their feelings. Especially since at this point, most of the casualties were not Manchu troops under their own banners. So the great drums at the foot of the mountain sounded, and the order to attack began.

At this time, Qing military law was ironclad. Once an attack order was given, they had to press forward without hesitation. The central army drums beat urgently. These Manchu and Mongol soldiers, with no way out, spurred on by the loud exhortations of officers at every level in their banners, burst out with hoarse, desperate battle cries and surged toward the low walls ahead, especially toward those ten passageways.

Watching them surge forward like a tide, Sun Sanjie, looking through his spyglass from the main stronghold wall on the ridge, saw it clearly. He understood that another wave of brutal slaughter was beginning. A cold light flashed in his eyes. If these Tatars refused to give up, then let them spill all their blood and grind all their flesh to pulp against his solid defense line!

The surging tide of Tatars spread across every part of the hillside, especially cramming the ten mountain passageways, with densely packed wooden shields interspersed among them. Watching them draw closer — a hundred paces now — Sun Sanjie abruptly gave the order!

Crack!

The sharp sound of the central army's swan-whistle rose, echoing across the entire mountain ridge.

The roar of firelocks firing in unison erupted. Above the first wave of low walls, three dense clouds of white smoke billowed up. Several hundred Tatars or bondservants, blood mist spraying from their bodies, howled and tumbled to the ground. The fields of fire behind each low wall were excellent, and apart from the passageways, very few Tatar soldiers had wooden shields for cover — the results were clear.

The several hundred logistics troop musketeers on the first wave's three low walls fired in volley, and the spearmen behind the third wave of low walls likewise hurled Wan Ren Di grenades like rain. Accompanying the firelock shots, boom, boom, boom — the Wan Ren Di explosions were continuous, blasting those Tatars and bondservants into howling chaos.

Along with the musket balls and Wan Ren Di, stones also rained down — the handiwork of some refugee laborers taking shelter on Changling Mountain.

Because participating in the battle meant good food, wages, and even military merit head counts, the laborers had all enthusiastically signed up. They threw stones with all their might, smashing the heads of the Tatars and bondservants in front of the first wave's low walls and trenches until their skulls split and blood flowed, sometimes even beating them to death on the spot!

Of course, Sun Sanjie did not dare let them throw Wan Ren Di. That required a certain amount of courage and training. Sun Sanjie could not guarantee that, in their terror, these laborers might not let the Wan Ren Di blow up among themselves or land on the heads of their own soldiers ahead.

At this moment, the attacking Two Yellow Banner Mongol troops and that portion of Manchu troops finally understood what those incoherent Outer Vassal Mongol troops meant when they said the Jingbian Army's three low walls fired from above and below simultaneously and were extremely difficult to assault.

Their impoverished language was insufficient to describe the defensive works on the mountain. Only by being on the battlefield personally could one grasp the eerie nature of the three tiers of firing points, above and below, between each wave of low walls on Changling Mountain.

Some Tatar soldiers, pressing up to the front of the trenches, by habit usually aimed at the musketeers behind the first low wall. Yet before they could loose their arrows, they were struck by bullets without knowing why, dying with their eyes open and falling on the slope.

Some, after realizing this, aimed their arrows at the rear two low walls, but then had to guard against the musketeers behind the first low wall. Often they looked after one end but not the other. Without noticing, from behind the third low wall, several more iron lumps or even a hundred stones would come flying, blasting them to death or crushing them!

The three-dimensional fire points of the Changling Mountain defense line, accompanied by the continuous Wan Ren Di and stones, and especially the jagged, uneven low walls, made the Qing troops facing the low walls and trenches feel as if they had nowhere to hide. They scurried about like rats, hoping to find a safe place.

And on the mountainside and to the rear, the mountain's mortars still pounded down poison shells and ash shells from time to time, adding further to their chaos.

Along with the crack of firelocks came the thunderous blasts of Hundred-Sons cannons and other artillery pieces. The tide-like Manchu and Mongol troops surged toward each passageway. With the sharp sound of the swan-whistle, the Hundred-Sons cannons at each passageway mouth erupted with one thunderous roar after another. By now, the number of Hundred-Sons cannons and Frankish cannons on Changling Mountain had reached a hundred, distributed in multiples to each wave of low wall defenses and each passageway mouth.

They fired in rotation. Amid the dense smoke billowing from the cannons, countless sprays of mud and dust exploded on the slope. Burst after burst of blood mist sprayed out from behind each wooden shield. Like wind blowing through a rice paddy, wooden shield after wooden shield toppled backward continuously.

How could crude wooden shields withstand the blast of canister shot? The storm-like lead pellets tore through the Manchu and Mongol Qing troops at each passageway, leaving them dead and wounded in heaps.

Originally, these places were already covered with the bodies of Outer Vassal Mongol troops and bondservants who had fallen in every conceivable posture, piled layer upon layer. Flesh, blood, and severed limbs were scattered everywhere. The logistics troops deliberately did not clear away these Qing corpses, using them to intimidate the Tatar soldiers who would attack next.

The assault of these Two Yellow Banner Mongol troops and that portion of Manchu troops only served to pile the mounds of corpses at each passageway mouth even higher.

Blood flowed continuously from their bodies, like streams, spreading all over the mountain. (To be continued.)