Chapter 640: Coerced

Watching Prefect Zhao die so wretchedly, Liu Niang felt somewhat dazed. Garrison Commander Sun, who had thrown his weight around inside the city, had turned into a righteous soldier in the blink of an eye, yet Prefect Zhao, who had been an honest official and treated people kindly, had been executed. Now there was nothing to eat at home — what would she and Yuanfa do from now on, what would Da Nan and Er Nan do?

Just like this young couple, watching the Chuang troops execute Prefect Zhao and the gentry, the dense crowd of commoners below either watched in fear, watched numbly, or some cheered loudly, but everyone felt the road ahead was unpredictable, filled with endless bewilderment.

Several days later, Li Zicheng led his army away from Yuzhou city, whose walls had already been razed. When he left, his forces had gained many tens of thousands more "soldiers and horses." Yang Yuanfa and Li Liuniang, this young couple, also followed within the army, bringing Da Nan and Er Nan along.

……

Several more days later, after easily capturing Nanzhao city, Li Zicheng's great army, its ranks even more swollen, advanced mightily on the road pressing toward Nanyang Prefectural City.

That day, the great army made camp beside the Yu River. Inside a dilapidated mountain god temple that had been commandeered as one of the campsites, Yang Yuanfa, Li Liuniang, and several neighbors huddled around a tiny campfire for warmth and rest. Everyone was disheveled and filthy, their clothes in tatters. They wrapped their bedding tight around themselves, bodies curled up, hoping this would make them a little warmer.

Liu Niang pressed close to her husband, and in her arms, Da Nan and Er Nan slept sweetly, though their little faces were growing ever more pale and gaunt. Constant marching, coupled with enduring hunger — how could two small children bear it? Their health just kept deteriorating like this.

Liu Niang's hair at this moment was like a hen's nest, growing yellower and more withered by the day. Holding her two daughters, her eyes were full of worry and despair. If they kept starving like this, what would become of Da Nan and Er Nan?

"Ssss..."

Beside her, Yang Yuanfa groaned again. Pus and blood could be seen seeping from his left arm. In just a short time, his hair had become as tangled as hemp. Moreover, the hair at both his temples had turned much whiter, and the padded jacket on his body was riddled with countless holes.

Seeing her husband's brows tightly knitted, gritting his teeth and enduring, Liu Niang grew even more worried. After being wounded by that blade days ago, because there had been no medical treatment, the injury on Yang Yuanfa's left arm had worsened and was now festering.

Whether in Yuzhou city at the time, or later in Nanzhao city, all the physicians and healers had been rounded up and taken away. In this Chuang King's army, human life wasn't worth a few coins. The coerced famine refugees were even less likely to receive any attention. If this continued, not only would her husband's left arm be hard to save, he might even lose his life because of it.

"Had I known, we wouldn't have followed along."

Liu Niang said through tears.

Back in Yuzhou city, the Chuang army had proclaimed things very well. On top of that, their grain and rice had all been looted, and they didn't know how to go on living. In a muddled daze, they had become part of the coerced masses.

But only after arriving at the Chuang camp did they realize it wasn't like that at all. They had to do so much labor, drinking only a little thin gruel each day, often just once a day, and had to rush about day and night, attacking cities. When would these days ever come to an end?

"Watch your words."

An old man across from them said, even listening cautiously to the sounds around them.

He was similarly barely clothed, his hair completely white, the wrinkles on his face as if carved by axe and chisel. This old man was called Uncle Qian. His old wife had died early, and he had set up a small stall in front of his door. Yuzhou city was empty now, so naturally he couldn't do business and had no choice but to follow the great army.

He was barely fifty in age, yet at this moment he looked as if he were seventy. His hollow, vacant eyes likewise projected despair toward life.

He said, "Don't let others overhear, lest someone secretly reports it."

He sighed, "And don't think about running away. A few days ago, several who had deserted, that is, people who tried to flee, were sliced to death alive. In the righteous army, fleeing is strictly forbidden."

Liu Niang dared not speak further. Everyone else was also terrified. People spoke of death by a thousand cuts, of those deserving a thousand cuts, usually referring to the most heinous criminals. Yet those who had been sliced apart a few days ago were just ordinary Yuzhou commoners who had never done anything bad.

Uncle Qian knew them — they were even from the same neighborhood. When they met in daily life, they had exchanged greetings.

No one dared discuss this matter, and they turned to talk of other things.

At this moment, beside Uncle Qian sat two other men. One was in his forties, honest and simple-looking, of tenant farmer origin, called Uncle Wen by others.

The other was in his twenties, appearing rather quick-witted. He was a waiter from a teahouse, usually called Liuzi. Beside them sat their wives and children. Regardless of man or woman, all were covered in dust and grime, every face bearing a sickly pallor.

"Soon, we'll be attacking Nanyang Prefecture. I wonder if the prefectural city will be easy to take."

Uncle Wen said in his simple, honest way.

"It should be easy to take, right?"

Liuzi said, "Don't they all say that attacking cities is very easy now, with famine refugees and inside collaborators often opening the gates? Xuzhou, Tongxu, Weishi, and Nanzhao a few days ago and so on — nearly all fell at the first assault. Surely the prefectural city will be the same."

In the past, everyone in the temple had bitterly hated those who secretly opened city gates. Now that their position had changed, they hoped that at every city, there would be collaborators inside to open the gates.

That way, they, these famine refugees who were often used as the vanguard to assault the front, wouldn't die meaninglessly beneath the city walls. Just the same, they too wanted to live.

"A prefectural city is not like a small county town. It has the Prefect, County Magistrate, Assistant Prefect, and other lords present. Not to mention, it's heard that within the city, Meng Ruhu, Marshal Meng, is also garrisoned there."

Uncle Qian sighed heavily, his words making everyone's expressions grow somber.

Meng Ruhu was a veteran general of the Great Ming with distinguished service. Even many common folk had heard his name. Just thinking of having to oppose him filled them with a sense of dread, fearing that beneath the prefectural city walls, many lives would have to be filled in.

Uncle Qian lamented sorrowfully, "In chaotic times, human life is worth less than a dog's. Better to be a dog in peacetime than a person in chaotic times."

Several women began to weep, but Liuzi's eyes glinted. He said, "I think there's still hope for life in the righteous army. Though it's hard right now, look at those squad commanders and picket commanders among the famine refugees — their food and drink are the same as ours. In the elite soldier camps, those in charge of fodder, those managing weapons, those handling cooking, they're all the same as ordinary soldiers."

"Everyone sharing hardships together, hearts set on one goal — isn't that good? After fighting a few battles and becoming elite soldiers, you can eat two meals a day, even three meals, and solid food at that. This isn't like the lords in the city, who feasted and reveled every day, yet in times of famine and cold, wouldn't spare a penny to relieve us poor folk."

At this time, throughout the Chuang army, an egalitarian supply system was practiced. All plundered gold, silk, rice, grain, pearls, and valuables were handed over to the quartermasters. All expenditures likewise came from the quartermasters. If provisions requested were insufficient, shortages were shared equally. Even Li Zicheng himself, in terms of meals, shared the same coarse fare.

Currently, this system held unimaginable appeal for many of the Great Ming's common people. Moreover, because the elite soldiers — that is, the old camp and the cavalry units — were the main fighting force, they could normally eat three meals a day. The infantry camps and their families ate two meals a day.

For the famine refugees, it was uncertain. However, as long as they fought a few battles — for instance, chiseling out a certain number of wall bricks — they could be transferred into the regular army.

Yang Yuanfa, who had remained silent all along, let out a cold sneer: "People, they're all like this. They can share hardship but cannot share wealth and glory. Right now they're conquering the realm, so naturally they have to buy people's hearts. Let's see then, after they've taken the throne, what it will be like."

He sneered, "Besides, this righteous army roams and darts about everywhere like this. It's fine as long as there are places to plunder, but if the whole realm is looted empty, what then?"

Yang Yuanfa deeply detested this righteous army, but had no choice, which was why he had been coerced into the ranks. Precisely because of this, he saw many things more clearly.

Liuzi glared, "No way... there must be a way..."

"Watch your words."

Uncle Qian coughed again. After that, in the dilapidated mountain god temple, there were no more voices of speech, only the sounds of groaning and faint, muffled weeping drifting through.

……

Another ten days later. Amidst the smoke of battle, the majestic Nanyang Prefectural City still stood. On the corner towers, enemy platforms, and encampment shelters all along the walls, dense ranks of Ming troops remained vigilantly on guard. Above the gate tower, the great banner with the character "Meng" and the great banner with the character "Liu" fluttered in the wind.

After Wang Dou had annihilated Zhang Xianzhong, Regional Commander Meng Ruhu, who had been under Yang Sichang at Jingzhou, had shifted his defense to Nanyang. Also, before Li Zicheng attacked Nanyang, Vice Regional Commander Liu Guangzuo happened to be passing through. The Prince of Tang, Zhu Yumo, had invited him to jointly defend the city, and at this time they were garrisoned together within the city.

After many days of attack and defense, the city moat — which was two zhang and two chi deep, four zhang and four chi wide, and fed by water diverted from the Meixi River — was now mostly filled in. The city walls, which stood two zhang and two chi high, were scarred everywhere. In particular, the corpses beneath the walls were piled like mountains, and the fresh blood flowing from the bodies seemed to have merged into streams and rivers.

Attacking Nanyang, Li Zicheng pressed on without pause day after day. At this moment, on all four sides of Nanyang city, the dense, dark mass of the attacking Chuang army seemed to stretch to the ends of heaven and earth. The uniforms and attire of their ever-growing numbers increasingly displayed a deep blue color.

It seemed that, following the advice of the literati under his command — that the Great Ming was of the Fire virtue and needed Water to overcome Fire — Li Zicheng's army increasingly favored blue.

At this time, Li Zicheng's army had begun to divide into five main camps: Center, Left, Right, Front, and Rear. Each camp consisted of several units. Each unit had fifty cavalry and either one hundred or one hundred fifty infantry. The famine refugees were irregular; generally a unit had several hundred people, a mix of old and weak.

Each camp had a designated banner color: the Left Camp's banner was white, the Right Camp's banner red, the Front Camp's banner black, the Rear Camp's banner yellow. The clothing and armor in the army often followed the banner colors. Historically, when Li Zicheng attacked the capital, contemporary accounts noted, "The bandits wore yellow armor, covering the fields on all sides like yellow clouds," referring mostly to the troops of the Rear Camp.

At this moment, Li Zicheng's forces were of course not very regularized; generally they wore whatever they had, and the famine refugees went without saying. However, formalization had already begun to show its first signs.

One wave of famine soldiers had just receded, and another wave of assault was already brewing.

Amidst the tide of famine soldiers, within one unit of coerced refugees, Liu Niang stood numbly, a wooden club in her hand. She listened to the unit's Picket Commander loudly rousing them. His accent was different — he seemed to be a person from the Luoyang area — and his expression carried a fierce brutality. Beside him, a standard-bearer held aloft a blue banner, on which the character "Chuang" was scrawled crookedly.

"The Grand General of Civil and Military Affairs, by Heaven's Mandate, Upholds Righteousness and Punishes the Wayward Officials. This is for us, the poor common people! Therefore every man must give his strength and strive united in battle..."

"In the righteous army, we are all brothers and sisters. We share our meals and wear the same clothes. Even the civil and military Grand Generals eat the same coarse fare and dress no differently. Look at those wealthy masters — arrogant, extravagant, and utterly indifferent to whether the common people live or die. Compared to that, what do we have to complain about?"

"The righteous army's military orders: what is commanded must be done, what is forbidden must cease. When those in front fall, those behind press forward. In the face of battle, none may turn back. Without hearing the sound of the gong signaling withdrawal, none may return to camp or retreat. Violators will be executed on the spot!"

"Everyone remember this well — don't get your head chopped off on the spot!"

It seemed these propaganda exhortations were all delivered in a uniform tone throughout Li Chuang's camp. This Picket Officer recited them by rote, having spoken them many times — one could say they flowed with practiced ease. Looking at the other squads, it was the same.

However, his words produced little effect within the squad. The brutality of the assault on Nanyang City was something everyone had witnessed with their own eyes these past days.

Those sent to fill the moat and dig at the bricks — some were struck by musket balls and arrows, some hit by lime pots, some wounded by rolling logs and hurled stones, and worse still, those struck by cannon fire.

Those who were fortunate enough not to die returned to camp, but afterward most of the wounded slowly perished in agony. Wails of lamentation filled every camp day and night. Thinking of such horrors naturally left everyone anxious and unsettled. (To be continued.)